White whites, Germany's chancellor and my abs

I should be doing my legs, I should be working on my face, I really ought to be doing something about the abs.

What am I doing?

I'm thanking providence that the Fat Bastard has gone upstairs to bed at this hour, enjoying a beer, typing this, keeping an eye on one of my favourite groups and generally biding my time while the whites get a good boiling wash.

I like my whites white.

Tomorrow morning's drama:

Act One: I don't feel well enough to go to School (you won't go to drama club in the afternoon, oh alright then)

Act Two: I didn't want that for lunch (you should have said something earlier, I don't like xy or z, since when?)

Act Three: I can't find (my school shoes, school bag, reading record, reading book, homework etc, etc; well where did you put them; I don't know; well why should I?)

Act Four: Come on, we're late (I don't want to be late, well get out of bed earlier/eat your breakfast more quickly, get dressed more quickly etc etc)

The Fat Bastard's mother is going to make herself useful and pick up some tights but they probably won't get here before the cold snap does.

I didn't go to a meeting I was supposed to attend earlier this evening and I do NOT feel crippled by guilt about that any more than I do about not attending to my legs, or face or abs or alcohol intact or bank balance.

In the background Anita is wittering on about Angela (hard G) Merckel who has just become Germany's first woman chancellor ... how far we have yet to travel that the sex of a head of government (not head of state in this case) might still be worthy of comment, let alone the bandwidth consumed by particular BBC broadcast for as long as this will go on.