Whilst the drag back to work was harsh in the first week, it's slowly getting back to normal. I say normal - each morning the cats are are waiting patiently at the foot of the bed, pawing at my nose to get up and feed them (although you would think two meals and biscuits would be enough for any furball). Girlpants pulls the pillow further over his head and rolls deeper into the duvet like a human sausage roll, whilst my feet are suddenly snapped into the cold as my half is usurped.

And most mornings, I really do not want to get out of bed.

I find myself lying in for 30 minutes (after putting the alarm a little but extra early) and dream of my school days or even that time last year when I was working four days a week, looking forward to that bank holiday weekend which slowly creeps forward. My Friday's off meant that that morning was lie in, a lazy day where I could catch up on the housework, do the shopping and then have a little time for me. It was the day of the week when my cats actually preferred me to Girlpants, when I could preen myself to my hearts content, away from male prying eyes so that my appearance seemed effortless, or even when I could dawdle and browse around town at my leisure - something Girlpants hates as all shopping must have a purpose.

Since having an extortionate amount of time off for the yueltide festivities, each weekend seems so short as we try to cram as much as possible into 48 hours. First priority is sleep. Catch up time is a must as it's early to bed on a Friday to cram as many zzz's in a possible. And then the weekend shop followed by the DIY in the doldrums continue, saving enough money by working on it ourselves so that I can half Nelson Girlpants into letting me have those sexy granite worktops. And then before you know it, it's Sunday night and that dvd you've been meaning to watch since Christmas still lies unopened on the side. Why is it when you go back to work after time off, you always need another holiday?? Or the need to create a plethora of excuses to get the man out of the house for some time to me and to exfoliate my legs?

Booting up my old Toshiba laptop on Friday with a view to blog resulted in the machine being shut down all too quickly. The grinding of the fan trying to move with many groans and squeals that made it sound like the hard drive was trying to rip itself out of it's shell quickly informed me that all was not well.

I think that the laptop may be on its way out. In fact, I'm pretty sure of it. It's not so much the howling noises that this machine emits but rather the automatic shutdowns and fatal errors that are pointing me in the rebuild direction. Taking it all apart and giving it all a good hoover didn't really help last night so now I am consigned to using Girlpants PC for access to the digital highway, which is a chore unto itself as it took over an hour to give his laptop access to edit this site. However the threat of going once more into the internet desert has already filled me with dread, so with the aim of keeping the laptop on it's feet mean only using it sporadically until it can be sent to the laptop doctor (Girlpants) and even worse, may mean that he won't be able to look at it for some time as we've just discovered that the roof is leaking. It's only Sunday and I'm already getting that feeling that it just may be a very long week.

It has to be fresher’s week. We were inundated with freshly scrubbed newbies, eyes wide with the notion of being away from home for the first time and anticipating a new world opening before them. Each new fresh face was filled with wonder mixed with worry, line of dread as they realised that parents were no longer holding the leashes tying their children tightly to their sides.

Which meant that for the past two days, I've experienced parenthood. Of a type.

Every single question within the sphere of uni that you can imagine. Accomodation. Council tax. Lifestyle choices. Banking. Budgets. How to live in the real world. Holding hands with new students as they try to start off at uni until they move towards lectures and standing on their own two feet. You know they'll come back with their problems - exams and money usually. And when they do, we'll all be there.

And whilst Girlpants and I have occassionally spoken of babies and then withdrawn back into our working worlds, this has to be a small insight. But the two days were enough to drain me.