Wanted a snack before bed. Thought I was being all fancy putting hummus on oatcakes with sliced grapes on top. And now I've dropped hummus on my toes. You can't take me anywhere.

I'm here and it's very pretty. But I looked at the grassy slope and thought it would be uncomfortable to roll down. I'm officially old, aren't I?

Nothing, but nothing, wakes you up faster and harder at 4am than the sound of a cat trying to be sick on your bed.

Primal Scream live. I actually went out!

Asbocat has had a haircut.

Just had a nice shout at the clingfilm for tangling around my hand. I told it I'd get the reliable foil out instead. That put it in its place.

Just squished a leftover roast potato and a leftover Yorkshire pudding into leftover gravy as a snack before bed. I'm winning.

Washing up, I found my husband had used a spork as a cooking utensil when making soup last night. A spork?! Why, and why do we even have one?

Look what I found Satwant Bee!

I was in M&S fighting the self checkout till and when it told me to swipe to find the croissants I'd bought, I found myself muttering but I'm not even on Tinder at it. Oh dear.

Muttar paneer and my first attempt at chapati ever.

Can someone please break it to Asbocat that from Tuesday I am no longer available as an all-day cat bed? I'm a bit scared to.

How I know it's chilly. 1. I've worn slippers all day. 2. I've just put my very warm but static ridden purple dressing gown of fleece on. 3. I couldn't tell which was the butter I'd left out all night for baking and which was the one I'd taken out of the fridge a bit earlier.

I've eaten my break time snack already. Which means I'll eat lunch at break. So chips at lunch?

Watching Jason Donovan singing the Joseph and the many coloured coat song on TV and thinking he'd taken that coat right off when we saw him in Rocky Horror.

I might have bought about double the amount of prawns I needed for our noodles tonight. Can't bring myself to regret it though.

I don't know what was just flapping about on my roof, but from the sound of it, it was at least the size of a roc.

I don't think people talk about the importance of roast potatoes rustling enough. Just did lovely ones. They rustled as I shook the tin. Sign of crunch.

Decisions, decisions...