2 months to go..

...until I earn the title of 'Mrs Greenwood'! And I have one wedding present that I'm desperately hoping to get...

A peg for my nose. I am surely marrying the gassiest man on the planet. Not only do I endure the usual being-trumped-on-in-bed, but now I cannot relax in my living room without inhaling toxic fumes. If anyone finds this, I want you to know that I had a long, painfully stinky death.

In other news, I've now ordered my wedding flowers from Mrs Bouquets. Decided to go with artificial flowers, as they cost less and I can get them out in 15 years and be all nostalgic. The bouquet is made up of ivory roses, with a scattering of black pearls & feathers.

So I'm currently planning the table centrepieces, after being told I really should have some. If I cant think of anything creative enough, I may go down the vases-filled-with-old-sweet-shop-sweeties route.

I would write more, but I can no longer breathe.

I don't like Mondays...

I really don't pay attention. I spent weeks crafting my first proper article on procrastination, and now I have become the queen of it. I will write something this week, I promise.

I've also become one of those women that spend their entire life on ivillage and fertility friend. Only a female TTC (thats Trying To Conceive for the uneducated) could possibly get excited about cervical fluid consistency. 

Work is dreary as ever, and I have become a creature of routine:

8.10 - Roll out of bed, walk into at least 1 door, and swear a lot when contact lenses refuse to go into eyes.

8.30 - Potter round flat getting ready and telling the people on GMTV they're a bunch of f**king idiots.

9.00- Have half a fag out the kitchen window, and swear at the spirit of Martin for leaving some electrical equipment switched on.

9.25 - Watch the trailer for todays Jeremy Kyle, snort and leave for work.

9.30-11.00 - I can't remember, I go into autopilot.

11.00 - Smoke other half of fag. Go to the toilet and slap myself round the face to wake up.

12.00 - Have a cup of moccachino. Ponder life.

13.00-14.00 - Go home for lunch. Talk at the guinea pigs.

14.00 - 17.30 - A mixture of swearing, looking out the window, wee breaks and huffing and puffing.

17.40 - Arrive home. Wake up. Drink.

See you tomorrow...