I feel like I'm cracking up. I'd made a note to myself, today, to 'Turn the F drive on'. Checking my diary it's set to remind me every Sunday. But therein lies a problem. I haven't a clue what it means. I've racked my brains. Not a clue.
Following on from my work life, I live my life by my desktop diary. I used to make handwritten notes, to do lists, then the filofax came along, then the Palm pda and now the desktop diary. It's the first programme I turn on in the morning. It tells me what to do and when. You could say that it took over from my mother. Then I got married and then she told me what to do! But it's much, much more gentle than being married. Only I know what it says and I can take my time. I like it, I do what it says and it's usually foolproof.
What's really worrying now is that I'm smart enough to make notes to myself but not smart enough to always know what they mean. I'm turning into a very sad git. A very sad old git. (You're beginning to see the light, boyo - Ed)
Anyway, I cheered myself up this morning because, thanks to Jan's cooking skills, I have lost further weight. I'm now down to morbidly obese! Still, it's progress.
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