Couldn't bear the thought of anything this morning, so after the girls were off to school I sent myself back to bed. Bed is so nice. It's the nicest place, really. It's warm, it's soft, nothing bad is allowed, all ogres, monsters, demands, obligations, pffft: not on this bed, they're not. Outside the window, all I can see is sky and tree so while I'm in bed I can pretend I'm not even in the city, but a rural idyll. I can almost not hear voices from the street or car doors slamming or the bus, just the odd wind chime, and those are allowed. These are the things you can eat in bed: toast, tea, coffee, chocolate, cheese, grapes. Other good things to have in bed with you: book, notebook, pens, magazine, cat. I don't have a cat anymore because she made me sneeze, but I would if I could. I slip my feet between duvet and sheet.... my own personal 200-thread count envelope. There are 30 blissful minutes before I have to get dressed for work and I intend to savour every last second of them.