Planet Mad

Today, I have been mostly wearing flour, accessorised with raw cake mix dried in a smear up my face. Although my Guides would be horrified ("That's got raw egg in it, Mad, you might DIE") I do so love raw cake mix. In fact, I'd quite happily scrape bowls for a living. Sadly, it's not a well-paid job and has devastating effects on the waistband, so seems to be unlikely to rate as one of my all-time-top-ten suitable jobs, but even so the idea's tempting.

In between baking, I've also built and filled a CD rack, and tidied the computer corner so that it's possible to use the scanner without having to dig through layers of important-yet-mislaid paperwork. However, being my usual self, the tidied up corner is beautifully clutter-free, but all the clutter was just moved to the windowsill alongside. It's the chaos theory of tidying: you move the clutter from one place to another, and eventually it all disappears. Miraculous. I'm not so sure that Rob's converted to this wonderful scheme, but he has plenty of time to get used to it. He seems to be coping so far and he's still unpacking boxes, so it looks like he's intending staying for a while. He's obviously more foolish than I thought.