Lucky Number 13

I have just literally pulled a six inch long piece of asparagus out of my daughter's arse. How's your day going?

There are details to this story, but this isn't that kind of website. Yet. I will just say that yes, I am certain that it was vegetable not animal, although halfway through pulling it out I was justifiably thinking parasite.

We had some bad news yesterday, nothing major, just another hope thwarted, and it's left me feeling worn out and heavy, as if I'm walking around inside a lead overcoat. I'm getting tired of non-stop setbacks and disappointments; none of it major, certainly none of it worth anyone's attention or pity, it just feels like a thousand tiny paper-cuts to the soul. If I was a giant magic 8-ball right now I'd be reading 'outlook not so good'.

And, as if the asparagus incident wasn't enough I just washed and dried my three strands of baby-fine blonde hair, then picked up LK's brush instead of mine and managed to gloop on 3lbs of residual Longs Drugs Maximum Hold Gel. I look like Snape's evil twin sister.

AND our next door neighbour is playing some kind of all-base drum medley which has left me resorting to sticking play-doh in my ears, which I'll admit is probably not a good idea either for my ears or the play-doh.

On the other hand, my self-pity isn't so all-encompassing that I can't be genuinely happy for other people's good fortune. Take julia for example. Pregnant with twins, normal twins, and this is her 13th pregnancy. I have been reading her truly brilliant blog for a long time now, and if anyone deserved a good roll of the magic 8-ball it was her.

So there you have it. Can anyone say PMS?