Need I bother actually writing a blog today? Might it just be easier to copy and paste yesterday's first paragraph?? Heck, why not?!

I got up early this morning for my radio thing, which got postponed because the show grew legs and went off on a tangent. The producers felt they wanted to give the Cystic Fibrosis topic good time, and didn't want to just squeeze it in. So tomorrow Monday, I will be up early again. One wonders is certain this was this a ploy by my Dad to try and get me up early. Pretty original. Hmmm.

Did you know that when this 'get up early' thing started (which I'm certain by now is being orchestrated by my father), I was left to do nothing, at a time which I am not normally up at? I thought, well with all this time on my hands, I should go out and do some errands (see yesterday), but to my dismay I discovered my car was blocked in the driveway by my Dad's car. It would appear my Dad wants me up early and housebound. Anyway, left with little other option, I decided to move my Dad's car.

I drive Delilah, who is a beautiful black micra, with superb handling and is as light as a feather. My Dad drives Bruce, a heavy old tank of a Volvo - very much a man's car. (And yes there are mens' cars and womens' cars!). Anyway, I found the keys and went out, but the car was *slightly* bigger then antipitated, and keep in mind I am rather petite. I brought the whole seat forward, reached up and held the steering wheel and off I went. The problem was, me being petite, driving an obese car, with only my nose reaching the door window, my eyes peering over the steering wheel, the situation wasn't exactly ideal.

I managed fabulously though, despite the fact it looked like a ghost was driving the car. People on our road never pay much attention to us or anyone, so a self driving car emerging from our driveway shouldn't raise too many eyebrows I don't think.

As I finished parking on the side of the road, a kind driver behind stopped so I could get out of the car. You should have seen her face as I got out, in my hoodie and bottoms, looking all of fourteen years old. Her eyes and mouth formed three identical circles. I could have clocked a hole in one (or three) had a golf ball been present. *Caaa-lock* Not only that, but as she slugged past me in her car, her head turned really slowly like some sort of childnapper you see in a film. Creep. Polite creep. She probably thought I was a polite joyrider as I smiled her on her merry way.

Anyway, today I gave the car (both of them) a rest (apart from playing taxi for EVERYONE in my family) and went cycling and then swimming!! It was for my lungs (which are improving I think) and I got a good few lengths in. I feel better but tired. But