Late night cooking.

Late night cooking.

It feels like we’re both students. Or both running our own businesses. Whichever, we’re drinking so much tea it’s a wonder we’re not saving for a dialysis machine; our kidneys must be overheating. We neither of us leave our Macs to cook or clean or see the outside world.

So, tonight, I decided to make sure we ate something fresh. Caroline had mused about pizzas so I set-to while she continued doing things I’m normally doing while she entices me with food – PDFing, EPSing, InDesigning and Photoshopping. She said to me tonight: “In the last five weeks I’ve traded being a planner for being an urban designer, graphic designer, accountant, project manager and some kind of professional traveler.” All I know is, we need a cleaner. And a travel agent. And a benefactor.

It’s all good. And, having visited Dad this afternoon, I’m happy that he’s stable and okay. Tests and more tests and waits and hopes that an ultrasound will prove his lung shadow to be less threatening than his doctor had made it sound on Friday. People are helping him feel loved. I’m hoping Mum can feel some of it too.

So the pizzas looked divine by the time they emerged from the oven at nine tonight – worth the wait. But Caroline is burning the midnight it seems, in a very Momo stylee. And I have much to push on with too, if I could only find the will after so much late night pizza. We’re okay. But we both want a cup of tea.

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