Up at 5.30. Back on the madness wheel. How does it end? Telewest are putting in a business line. We've another bite on free workshops. Later today we hopefully get our website. I've put together a rather impressive sixteen page rewrite for the designers. That's the pay-off. My eldest, above, begins exam fortnight this morning. I have a friend coming for lunch. She's on a diet. "I just want leaves, no dressing." She used to be such fun:-( That said, I'm trying to get my boobs back ahead of my belly. I hate middle age. Take my enormous arse. When I walked, it once looked like two helium balloons in the last throes of making love. Now it's a giant pancake with no filling. The excess has relocated to my midriff. Gross. On Sunday night I met up with a boy I first encountered three years ago. As soon as I saw him, I remembered why I've taken avoiding action ever since. Lovely to look at, but when he talks his tongue sort of sticks behind his teeth. My mate, H, tells me speech impediments, and/or the physical signs of one, are fashionable. Why? Before leaving for exam hell, my eldest marked out some potential males for me in Soulmates. One was an ex-punk. "What does that mean?" I asked, "Piercing scars?" She was upbeat. "Give him a ring, Mum. He says he has a snoggable mouth." Taken aback, I said nothing. Well, actually, I said, "Leave it on my desk." But I can't help feeling our relationship is a little skewed:-o