I posted earlier because I’ve woken up with chronic period pains, the pain shooting down my back into my legs. Why do men have it so easy? I’ve tried to think of what they have to put up with and could only think of shaving – but as we have to shave to, or even worse, wax - that hardly count’s. So I’ve taken some pain killers, soaked in a hot bath and am now fully awake – Himself is snoring is bloody head off while spread across my side of the bed.

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Well I can’t tell you how hard I worked yesterday – mainly because I spent the best part of the day exchanging jokes with Scally and did sod all else*. I have to admit she beat me, but I’m up for a rematch once I’ve been on a reconnaissance mission and found some more jokes. I haven’t laughed that much for ages - it's done me the world of good. It's also made me think how lucky I am to find such good friends, which when you hear such bad things about the internet, makes a nice change.

Some of the jokes were that awful you laughed out of pity, but we kept it up from 9.30am to about 3.00pm, until I surrended - I'd run out of ammunition.

* Proof yet again - if it's now needed - that she is a terrible influence.

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I also spent some time with the fish – they're extremely therapeutic to watch - and they recognise the sound of my voice. Just like my cat, they know who feeds them. Don’t ask me what types we’ve got – fish are like cars to me – you identify them by size, shape and colour.


We’ve a grey shark called Bruce and another tiny red tailed shark called Fergul Sharky. Shamus is hiding be hide the rock, he was named after one of the candidates who was interviewed for the General Manager's job - what an odd ball he was, with his suede shoes that didn't match his suit.





We have two angel fish called Pinky & Perky and the beautiful Gill, opposite, named after the Finding Nemo character. He comes right up to the front of the glass and follows your finger.

We also have the anthill mob, a group of orange guppies - we bred some of those ourselves. I can’t tell you how excited we where when we discovered the babies – they were so tiny and hidden in the weeds. The two catfish that pick the stones up and shoot them out again are called Hoover and Noo-Noo, and the little blue fishes are all called Peter. Last, but not least, is a long fish that cleans the algae off everything - affectionately known as Trish the fish – as it sucks the glass. Most of the fish have names that are associated with children’s programmes or films – and that probably sums up our mentality pretty well.