Head Tired

I feel knackered. Not physically knackered but..."head tired" is the only way to put it.

You still have to send me the link for the jane white thing (I thought of Paul's sister when I saw that name, by the time I had finished that sentence I was thoroughly disturbed).

Tell me a story about Prague! Your pics are ace, you and Jay look...(don't laugh)...glamorous. Seriously. I saw them and thought, 'jesus I'm looking middle-fucking-aged these days', which I find irksome. Pretty much the only time I think about kids (IF that were to occur) is when I'm wondering what sort of history I'll leave behind so that they have an idea about their mother before she got preggers and settled into fat, slipper-wearing domestication, before she stopped reading books and started watching day-time telly. It makes me want to make self-indulgent photo albums, but I photograph about as well as an open wound.


Anyway, how did I start talking about kids? How did that happen? That is not something I do. Natasa must be leaking hormones everywhere.

Ugh that last bit disgusts me.

Love xoxo
(miss choo)

Did your mom's kitty find a home?