George, Clooney and otherwise

Walking with George on the tip today I realise I haven't washed, brushed my hair or cleaned my teeth. 'Not to worry,' I tell myself. 'It's not as if you're likely to meet George Clooney on an old municipal rubbish tip.'

But how annoying would that be? If it happened today of all days. Because obviously the only thing that would stop him falling at my feet would be my unbrushed hair.

Salad tastes so much better with cheese and real coleslaw. I tell myself that feta isn't as fattening as other cheeses. I refuse to check on the grounds that I'm probably wrong.

Another illusion shattered: I didn't think it were possible to burn food in a microwave. My baked potato is so hard on the bottom I fear it may crack my teeth if I try to bite it.

I tried. It didn't break my teeth but neither can I crack it. I gave it to George. He's now looking at me resentfully.

It's amazing the shape distraction can take.

I was looking for some sort of image to accompany this post and for no other reason than it was the only word I could think of I searched for writing images. It led me to Couch to 80k Bootcamp.

I spent the next half hour investigating, listening to the first podcast and doing the first writing exercise. It was fun. I might try and keep this up. Add it to the mazillion and one other things I want to do in a day.