They call me the Wild Rose...

Today has been a long, long day. I managed to miss lovely Ruthie this morn as I had fitful mouse-trauma dreams all night long. I was also terribly afeared about our cardboard bed collapsing. Luckily, it did not, though that may be because I rigid and motionless - paralysed with the night-terrors!

So I slept in, and at 9.30am I made a mad dash for the train back to Cambs. The best part of the day was listening to Nick Cave's Murder Ballads album on the train. I stepped off of the train to find the whole of the town centre plunged into power-cut chaos. Shopkeepers stood languidly leaning against their door jambs, smoking and deciding whether or not to lock up for the day at 11am. It was a charming olde worlde picture of a Cambridge working day.

I paraded around for a bit then found my way home on the number 2 for many exciting family treats (pasta, green tea, milky way and US Apprentice) then we all watched Charlie Brooker's Newswipe and learned a bit about the world of 'infotainment'! Excellently good in every sense.

Now I am doing a night shift and monitoring the fatties in the US and reading their tales of bum-gravy woe. Oh the humanity!

I may also do some online shopping and unnecessary bagel eating. Scrumdiddlyumptious as my daddy dearest would say!

Goodnight me precious'!