Medusa has been replaced but Clytemnestra is hanging on

The brain is no friend to its host people!

Luckily what seems in the dead of night to be an insurmountable problem, appears to have realistic alternative answers to the doom and gloom of one's processing unit in the bright sunshine of the morning.

In fact on my fifteenth birthday we went en famille to the 100th anniversary of that day, which is known as Bloomsday. It is celebrated around the world as such, particularly among Joycean scholars and fans, and named for one of the two main protagonists. Leopold Bloom.

Therefore I spent that birthday in and around Dublin at the then, largest cultural event to be held in Ireland. I was even allowed my first Guinness, which I hated, but also had my first taste of black pudding which I loved.

I know everyone says they want to read the book, but can't cope with the dense stream of consciousness, language, and structure. But I absolutely believe if you persevere the rewards are definitely commensurate with the effort.

Do you iron stockings? I do because I love the feeling of them straight out of the packet, all flat and neat. I have ruined a few trying to get it right though. Fully fashioned are my go to, but getting the seam in the right place with a crease can be frustrating at best. Oh dear still another five and a bit hours till he gets here, mind you getting his shirts how he likes them isn't a quick and easy run across with the iron. It needs military precision and don't get me started on polishing his shoes. Have you ever seen an ex army officer polish their shoes, it takes forever and involves all sort, of arcane preparations, including bodily fluids! I wonder sometimes if I'm more like his batman, than his future wife?

You know when you read modernist books, like Ulysses and you're never sure where the last sentence you read came from, because you're inside the character's head and listening to their random thoughts.

And I walked everywhere, didn't take the car once. Yes it is a concession to the idea I may have to make a tiny adjustment to my waistline. I am no longer at home to Miss muffin top, despite James' insistence that he likes it. He is so lucky, it doesn't seem to matter what he eats or how much exercise he gets (or not) he doesn't put on any weight. He just stays the same lean and sinewy and hard...

Okay it's only a few hours until he arrives, but I can't afford to go through the afternoon thinking about that in that way, I'll swoon away in a puddle of my own fluid (sorry, bit graphic)

Anyway I've got a ton of ironing to do and I haven't done the downstairs shower yet (no that wasn't a euphemism) I really must try and calm Miss rampant libido as well while I'm at it! I seriously wonder whether I have any control over my body at all, but it's nearly two weeks in and I haven't lapsed.