Breakfast the Eighth

Toast with pear and apple spread again. 

Who mandated that we all be depressed today? The overriding feeling for me was one of hunger. Other than that, I've been feeling positively chipper.  Perhaps it's endorphins. I went running today (with my partner in crime) for the first time in actual whole months. I'm delaying going to bed because I know that the now slight pain in my legs is going to become an inability to move by the morning.

At least The Guardian didn't buy into the Blue Monday thing. Apparently Ben Goldacre debunked the myth some years ago. Good old Goldacre. It makes me more happy than is reasonable that he calls Gillian McKeith (who must surely be in cahoots with some Mung bean producing mogul) the Awful Poo Lady. I can't say I've ever paid particular attention to Gillian McKeith; but she's one of those people who somehow insinuates their way into your consciousness.