APOOCALYPSE AND OTHER DEADLINES.

It was a bit of a tall order — administering Movicol Paediatric and expecting to have any life outside the bathroom, but I had to try. The deadline for my uni end-of-year assessments is hurtling towards me at a rate of knots. By eleven o’clock all I had acheived was a huge bump on my brow-bone, a bite on my leg, palpitations, and a child who was a pound lighter (thanks to the Movicol) but still in his pyjamas with Boris Johnson hair. My laundry basket would have been heavier by at least a pound of underpants (and socks) if I hadn’t given up and consigned them to the dustbin wrapped in several layers of scented nappy bags.

I did manage to get some work done in the end, but it is probably a good job we have to submit everything electronically as there is a slight possibility that not all the grubby smears on my manuscript are chocolate. I wonder what is the worst thing my tutors have ever found on smeared on a piece of work?

With my deadline horizon looming ever closer this blog may go rather quiet for the next month, but rest assured we will be back. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a large glass of wine.

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