Wake up call

The cruellest thing about starting work at 7a.m. in West London when living in South East London is that, in order to catch the 6:08 train, you end up walking past several coffee shops -- all of which are all shuttered.

It was dark this morning when, for the first time in seven months, I woke up at 5a.m. to an alarm clock. In a word? It sucked. Thanks to my tiny demanding human, the actual early wakeup was a lot easier than it used to be, but also thanks to that guy, leaving the house was excruciating. It took all the restraint I could muster not to wake him up for a cuddle (you're welcome, Alex!).

But here I am. Green tea in hand, hoping that Jack's feeling better than he has been for the past few days, feeling grateful that his Daddy is there to take care of him if he needs it and -- thanks to a very slow news day -- counting the hours till I can head home to cuddle my boys.