I think I must have been ovulating in the last couple of days. It can be the only excuse for the whole series of inappropriate thoughts that have gone through my head. Lets call it a prehistoric urge to mate - originally in a bid to keep humanity going. Clearly, I have done my bit and now hormones have calmed down - I shall start making a note of dates in my diary. I must never, ever go out when ovulating.

As an incentive for my knee to improve - I purchased a pair of rather fabulous and quite high shoes. I have told the children they are Kiss me shoes and they feel as confident as I that when I put them on - lots of men are going to kiss me. In my head they are not called Kiss me shoes but children were present. I may even post a picture of them since anonymity prevents anything more personal. Middle child wants to know if they would have to call someone a step Dad if I never actually remarried. I fear he may be ahead of the game but I like the positive thought. He likes the idea of more presents. Either way - the most important thing right now is my new shoes.

So after a few hours of suitable fawning at my new heels, I walk across the kitchen and bang my toe into the Bitches large plastic bone. It hurts. It really, really hurts and only after four hours of wincing do I think I should take a peak. Middle toe is very, very purple and I can only walk if it is not touching the ground. I fear I may have broken it. If I have it could be some time before I can wear my new shoes and it will be the third toe on my right foot that I have broken in three years. So now i have a duff knee and a foot I cannot fully weight bear on

There is no justice in life.