The Cat.

I've had a long, tiring day. First I went to the dermatologist and had some weird things frozen off the sole of my foot with liquid nitrogen at -200°C. Big pinching sensation, for those of you who're wondering - oh, and air at room temperature burns where the liquid touches your skin. Apparently you can also make cocktails with liquid nitrogen, but I'm not sure what affect this might have on your health...

Then we went to beg for money from the French Administration, because we should have received it in January, then Feb, then March and now they're saying it'll arrive around mid-April.

Then after a too-short siesta (we'd been awake since about seven) I went to meet the old nanny I'm replacing as of next week and be introduced to their teachers.

I got back around eight and I'm knackered, and worried, because I still need a car with two working seatbelts in the back for next week, and Nans' step-mother said she'd lend me her's, and though I'm infinitely grateful I'm also terrified of damaging it. Bref, I should probably sleep, and I'm sure nobody would mind if I didn't blog today.

But I'll feel rubbish if I don't write something today, and I'm too braindead to do anything creative. Blogging is the perfect narcissistic alternative.

You're lucky, though. I was going to write a whole blog about our cat Figaro, but then I decided against it, even though he is brilliant and could own Monorail Cat any day. Note that the photo below was taken while he still had both ears. :)