I just got soaked through going to Pret for a coffee and a mozzarella/tomato croissant.

Totally worth it. Even if I subsequently die from consumption. Worth. It.

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I wasn’t in yesterday. Did you die or did you tough it out?

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I know you weren’t in yesterday. I decided to email you anyway, just in case I died overnight and you wouldn’t know that my final thoughts were of you BEING HOME while I was AT WORK. Not that I’m bitter.

You will be glad to hear that I am not dead. The sciatica is getting better too. I discovered some yoga stretches that really help. Although they require me to put my foot up on the kitchen top and stretch out my hamstring. I am like this demented ballerina in the kitchen, hopping about on one leg while making unfortunate sex noises. Caro thinks it is hilarious. 

Punky the cat also thought it was very interesting and JUMPED UP AND HUNG ONTO MY LEG WITH HIS CLAWS then just dangled there. I nearly screamed. 

And by “nearly” I mean, “totally did”.

On the plus side, the sciatica is much improved and the Bolshoi have invited me to play the lead in Giselle.