Irish Breakfast Mess

One of those mornings, while being much like all the other "one-of-thoses" each one brings along a bag of new tricks. This particular one being no exception since I have managed to spill the remnants of my tea down my front. You wouldn't know from looking at me, but I have to spend the rest of my day (or at least until I can find a shower) with Irish Breakfast Bosom. It's because of mornings like this that I begin to consider the merits of a sippy-cup.

Between having to climb up a steep incline to my second-of-three class and find time to limp to the pharmacy for some blister pads (new boots get me every time) I can't help feeling like this day cannot bring me back to my bed soon enough. Or at least nearer to my peppermint foot soak. I would take my feet in for a thank-you pedicure but they are in a sorry state and I would be ashamed to show them in public.

I got back to belly-dancing yesterday and for once I was able to reap the benefits of Christmas indulgence. The ginger-bread colony (read: my love handles) shimmied most pleasantly. Although I am going to have to practice my shimmy endurance if I have any hopes of competing in May. Right now, it remains distant enough that I'm not threatened. Give it two months and then you'll see Katherine panic.

Days like this need a good song, but I could really do without music videos. I prefer the images that spring from my own imagination. So I endeavour to post songs without their accompanying videos; I have confidence in your imagination too.

Tunes for a "One-of-Those" Day.





Maybe one day I'll write down what comes to mind when I hear these. But like most things, they're probably better in my head.