Perfect Pink

Sunrise...

My eyes flew open at 4.44 this morning and after a few minutes of futile head-talk ("PLEASE GO BACK TO SLEEP") I rolled out of bed and into the kitchen to make a disgusting egg-white omletty thing and a big Paul-mug of espresso.
I have already started work (and good thing too, as all my other metrications have uploaded more work) and I'm feeling good.

The week ended very well yesterday. The time seems to have arrived for lazy too-long yet not-long-enough lunches in the sun. Even my toes were happy.
And the cardamom biscuits? All 32 disappeared - I think that recipe's a keeper.

Later: body pump for an hour at 8.30, then returning some weights to the sports store, picking up ---- and here I was about to reveal a secret that I won't because my Mum reads this blog too -, then perhaps going to Good Sammy's and picking out an ostentatious party frock for a fiver to wear to Kym's cocktails at the casino tonight... and then, of course, back to work.

And, because although I've had beautiful full days, my head has been racketing away, here's a touch of Fitzgerald, because I've been remembering:

"It is sadder to find the past again and find it inadequate to the present than it is to have it elude you and remain forever a harmonious conception of memory."

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