I woke and in a post migraine fuzziness, autopilot flipped into action and I (suppose I) made tea and logged on, setting about doing the work I hadn't done yesterday. Except our IT was being unhelpful, so I fucked about donig inessential stuff to kill time until the IT Crowd got it together byt which time momentum and enthuiasm were sadly lacking. 

Still feeling rubbish, I took myself off to Her's at lunchtime to WFHerH; I didn't feel up to cycling in the wind and rain, so I plugged in Loraine James Build Something Beautiful For Me and zoned out til I got to Her's then kinda zoned back in, somehow. 

A quiet afternoon that was relatively productive and I was doing OK until I finished and took Loki out and suddenly all was not OK (it was but it was a struggle; head all over the place, sheesh)

As I settled into the walk around the Meadows I straightened out and was going fine til She called me - I couldn't understand what She was talking about but in hindsight I worked out I'd somehow sent Her x4 handbag texts and She didn't know what I was talking about! Simple things like that were causing much befuddlement.

Anyway, I made a roast beef and beetroot salad; some added red onions and peppers were fried and added and a mustard / balsamic viniagrette topped it off; and a HeyPlantBae pistachio cruffin to finish (a muffin shaped croissant with a sugary yum-yum type coating, filled with a pistachio creamy custardy ooze - me gusta.

Having stayed awake longer than I'd thought likely, I returned from whence I'd come again availing myself of the 47. Where I remembered to take a photo / blip. 

I still had just about enough capacity to phone Paw on the occasion of his 81st birthady.