Moan, moan, moan.

Yeah yeah yeah, it's gorgeous. Try slogging across it in driving Arctic rain.

So Hammersmith bridge is closed all this week for construction work (obviously I've read all that stuff about NOT GIVING AWAY TOO MUCH PERSONAL INFO ON YOUR BLOG so as to avoid stalkage, but frankly there is only one bookshop in Barnes, so a determined stalker could find us fairly easily if pressed). Hammersmith Bridge is closed, which means that I have to get out of Hammersmith Tube, and walk across the bridge to get a further bus. Not too bad in the big scheme of commuting, I agree, but it's all relative - I'm so used to a few stops on the tube, wander out to the bus stop, tra la la. This bungs a whole fifteen minutes of exercise into my day, both ways, and furthermore it was absolutely chucking down this morning, so I spent this morning's little journey doing exclamations of indignation in my head - to the point where I was worried I'd start saying them out loud. Rough transcript as follows:

Oh bugger, it's... it's running off my nose! It itches! But my hands are too wet to wipe my nose! GET OUT OF MY WAY! Why are people with umbrellas incapable of moving to one side to let you pass? IT IS ILLEGAL TO CYCLE ON THE PAVEMENT!!!!! My nose itches! IT ITCHES!!! No really, hit me with your umbrella!!! DON'T BOTHER STOPPING, IT'S ONLY A BUS STOP AND YOU'RE ONLY A BUS!!!!!!!! There's a wet patch on this seat! Is it... me?

And so forth. My inner monologue on the way to work (when not muffled by the louder voice of whatever book I'm reading) tends to be a thing of sleepy oh wowness since I'm not fully awake until I've had my first coffee at 9.30ish. Today I have morphed into my occasional alter ego Mrs Freakishly Short Fuse. Sigh.

Water

Just read a tiny piece in the paper which suggested that drinking 2 litres of water a day may actually not be necessary, contrary to the received wisdom about hydrating etc etc. Apparently NOT ONLY do we get all the hydration we need through our usual diet BUT ALSO tea, coffee, booze etc count as liquid (NO, REALLY???) for the purposes of said hydration. Apparently it is not necessary to carry a 5-litre bottle of Volvic around in your Orla Kiely bag (that's for anyone reading this in Chiswick). All of which is fair enough but fails to take into account the fact that my diet mostly consists of crisps and sausage rolls and anything else that turns the paper bag transparent with grease - which does NOT count as a liquid although I firmly believe it counts as at least two of your fruit and veg. AAAAAAAnyway. Imagine, consequently, my delight. There I was thinking my 4 Starbucks and (on a good day) 3 Martinis was the road to Hell - when all the time I've been following the path of True Righteousness. My premature wrinkles and sluggish kidney action are evidently hereditary rather than self-inflicted.