Last night, in a fit of attempting to get some sort of control over my life, I took up my paint brush and did a coat of gloss painting in my hitherto almost forgotten shower room. I was close enough to the floor to realise exactly how much I'm disappointed with myself for the way that I tiled it, though I know that I'm the biggest critic of my own tiling and few others would really notice or give a toss... though there are enough corner and edge misalignments to give the barefooted visitor to the bathroom enough cause to be disdainful of my tiling skills.
Lots to learn with the tiling, then. The painting I can pretty much do, and I think I'm about to go and give the room a second coat.
I'm not sure where my head is right now. This is post-Edinburgh and it usually comes with a massive descent into fringe-based grief. However, I am not really thinking much about the fringe at the moment, so who knows where I am.
I have much to do this year before I can declare myself a winner or a victim. The tussle with the law, in particular with my driving licence, is not doing me any good either. I have received a letter definitely confirming that I have no choice but to go to court over speeding. It's just a case of waiting for the dates now and paying for appropriate legal advice.
Sometimes I wish I didn't have to be a grown up.