Attic fever

So here I am, cooking like the proverbial lobster, back in the attic while the teens play rock band and eat sugar. In light of this return, I realised it was also the last time I blogged. Seems the lack of sanity and random blitherings go hand in hand... So, then, what's new... Well not much by all accounts. However, I have put up shelves (with help, granted) - a descent into the world of DIY weekends and old age, clearly. My almost indestructible cat sadly proved the almost to be true. Snivel. I still wish I was a little bit thinner and a little bit taller. I am however, tanned. Which helps. Gin is a veritable life support machine, as ever was, and my friends, are as always, very fabulous.
I am still single, which irritates me far less than I thought, considering recent forays into, well, lets be polite and say "disappointments". But I do think I should probably pay more attention to that at some point soon. Someone to help with the cooking and carrying of bags, and indeed further shelves, wouldn't go amiss. Someone to hold the popcorn so I don't eat it all or throw it all down myself during bad action flicks is also, always useful.
I also continue to work incessantly, and have no idea when I'm going to slow down. Not any time soon I should think. Damnit.
So, I'm thinking of joining a walking club upon leaving the attic, which should help with the recently acquired sloth thighs, and I'm thinking about other ways to do things differently. Yoga sounds like an idea, as does regular trips to somewhere I haven't been before. More book reading, too, and more learning. More to think about.

(Beverage: H20. It's all too hot in here. Shoes: New. I fell into an outlet store and meanwhile, mountains were made.)