Tra la. Where does time go? I am supposed to be spending the day writing. Instead I have been doing housework, scooping poop, walking dogs, waiting for a decorator to come and give me a quote hopefully less jaw droppingly expensive than previous decorators and running my son to the station.

He's got a second round interview- advertising and marketing. Why hasnt he got his train tickets sorted out? Why hasnt he got his clothes sorted? Why is he washing his shirt and trousers at 11.00 am when his train is at 13.30? Why, when they are still damp-ish and he's packing, doesn't he iron said shirt and press said trousers first? The job is in advertising - which as I understood it is all about presentation?? Don't need to..... Excuse me??? Oh la; he's just too chilled.

I offered to run him to the station- to make sure he caught his train. Oh lets just stop at the doctors first as he needed to pick up a precription for antibiotics. Plenty of time- its 13.10 by now. There are roads works whichever way to the station. We choose Route B - oh just turn left up there- it doesnt say no entry- it doesnt have to - the lanes are marked straight on, the junction is deliberately designed to be awkward. Guess what- yep I have to turn left otherwise he wont get his ticket and he won't make the train.

I am a nervous wreck. He strolls off. I phone later- he caught the train. But - will he iron his shirt and press his trousers? So that at least he looks half decent.... Why am I a mother? Gawd- you should have to be interviewed for that as a job. It doesnt suit everyone you know. I probably would have been better as an estate agent.

Bless him though. I am crossing my fingers for him. And I hope I get my 50 quid back that I have lent him for expenses.....

Right back to some proper work.