Today I worked until 1pm and drove home singing Chris Brown’s ‘Beautiful People’ at the top of my lungs on repeat for around 20 minutes of the journey. Proceeded by Olly Murs. Loud. With the window open a bit. A few weird looks at a set of stop lights later, I got home, got in my bed in my uniform and went to sleep. Woke up. Put my pyjamas on. (I know, right.) Made pasta for tea, watched Simpsons and South Park. Played with Charlie, fed her apple. Came up to bed. Procrastinated, painted my nails glittery black. Wrote a blog post. Set my alarm. Kept emergency carton of apple juice on bedside table for thirsty moments in the night. Pondered how grumpy and tired I would be in the morning having had no sleep. Decided life is too short to worry. Got bad belly ache. Blaming dairy filled hot chocolate which was minty and very nice given WWIII going on in my tummy. Damned lactose intolerance. Wondered why I have written my blog in this format. Came up with no answer. Decided I am too tired to carry on. Rubbed eyes. Put phone down on bedside table.