Happy Ginger Day!
...then Goldilocks leaped out of the cupboard with a blood curdling shriek and injected the unsuspecting landlord in the neck. As he sank to the ground he noticed Goldilocks was bollock naked and covered in marmalade, and he heard, 'and this little piggy was juuuuuuust right....' and then he blacked out...
Eek! I"m busy busy today, how very dare they! Don't they know I don't like to be bothered on Ginger day by things OTHER than ginger business.
Couple of things, on Monday, I'm embarking on my drive to run faster for the marathon. Ergo this will involve upping my training and so on. To up my training I will naturally need to....marmalade help me...knock the drinking on the head. (Hey, did anyone hear that crack of thunder?)
I've done this before, it's not the end of the world, but it does make me go funny, so if I sound odd over the next few weeks ignore me. It's just confusion and confrontations with looming reality. Every time I give up drinking my whole system goes haywire, I wake up early-unnatural. I eat less- unheard of. I am more productive-smugsome, I drop weight- welcome, I even- and I'm collie wobbled to write this- have more energy for doing stuff.. It never ceases to amuse me to notice that after a fortnight off any kind of hooch I feel rejuvenated.
Of course this never makes me think, 'Golly, maybe I ought not to drink ever, why I feel so gosh darned good.'
I never think that. I'm Irish, it's against the law not to drink. Plus I LIKE drinking.
Anyway, sacrifices must be made for the greater running good, and in this instance the beloved hooch has to go.
Naturally this means Monday, and not today.
Stopping or starting things on a Friday causes a tear in the atmosphere, and nobody wants that. Things should only be ever be started or stopped on Mondays, that is my ONLY superstition-and I wouldn't even have that if it wasn't for the blasted Spaniard telling me so for so many years.
So this weekend is it until after marathon day. Yikes I say, yikes indeed. Anyone who might want to join this period of dry feel free to join in- but not Medbh, she's rocking the non smoking, and needs at least ONE vice.
Now, today's question, to which I've already yelled at the radio. Would you let your parents or parents-in-law move in with you as they got older?