Working: it is no good. We should be at the zoo.
I stayed up too late last night - partly because I'd drunk a cup of coffee to be able to stay awake over the corrections, and got palpitations... nice, not. I don't know how people who drink it all day can stand that feeling.
Just before we went to bed, my husband was watching one of his horrible true crime programmes - this time one about a South American black magic serial killer involved in drug cartels. Human sacrifice and so on. I felt it prudent to run from the room, hands over ears, LALALA but he takes it all in then falls into a deep sleep the minute his head hits the pillow.
Then I got deeply involved in my new Marian Keyes, which is all about depression and domestic abuse, slightly disjointedly, so you don't know who's who or what's going on the whole time. It got gripping and depressing at the same time, so I went to sleep feeling icky - didn't go to sleep and the baby awoke half an hour later - fed him, didn't get to sleep til about two, composing blogposts in my head - I know it was about the gist of this, but can't exactly remember what my angle was.
Her depressed character is really sympathetic, she made me feel sad, and anxious, and depressed about depression.
One bad thing about having small children and working from home is that you only get to read at night and I'm a demon for staying up later than I should, first the internet, then the novel I can't put down. Not good. Yawn.