Watched Clarissa Dickson Wright cook some things from a medieval cookbook and it occurred to me yet again that the very best you could hope for in this era was not to die to horribly or early, and to be served fish with too-sweet dried fruit sauces. Of course, were I around in medieval times, I would also be deaf, mostly blind, approaching middle age and restricted from most kinds of power on the basis of several accidents of birth that I would have no opportunity to overcome.

My mission this week - to take a full lunch break and leave the office on time each day is currently at 2/2. I think this is working as for the first time in several weeks I am actually hungry at mealtimes and have sufficient energy in the evenings to take some form of exercise. Still only slept about 4 hours last night though. Margaret Thatcher was clearly some kind of biological freak to thrive on lack-of-sleep.

I have not had a beer since last Thursday. Not in the mood, even though I have one Dogfish left. Not not in the mood in a bad way though.

I think dinner shall involve mashed potato. With something.