I Rang My Mother To Thank Her

... I Am More Of An Ambler. I Once Overheard My Old Boss In Dublin Describe Me As Very "hello Trees, Hello Flowers." It Was Intended As An Insult And It Fulfilled Its Brief; I Was Insulted. I Had Little Interest In Greeting Trees And Flowers But Nor Did I Treat Life As A Treadmill, On Which It Was Vital To Keep Fleeing Forward In Order To Avoid Being Sucked Off The Back And Out Of The Game.

I'd Rather Eat Nothing Than Eat A Carrot.

Waiting To Be 'better' Is The Wrong Approach. It's Learning To Live With It.

So I'm Back Again To The Eternal Question, The One That Has Plagued Me All My Life: How Do Other People Do It? How Come They Were Given Life's Rule Book And I Missed Out? Where Was I When God Was Dispensing Capability And Cop On? Looking At Shoes, Probably.

I Love Prada. Not So Much The Clothes, Which Are For Malnourished Thirteen-year-olds, But I Covet, With Covety Covetousness, The Shoes And Handbags. Like, I Love Them. If I Was Given A Choice Between World Peace And A Prada Handbag, I'd Dither. (i'm Not Proud Of This, I'm Only Saying.)