I'm the worst person in the world for losing my diary! It is a great big fat black thing, and one would think I could and should keep tabs on it. It's very Freudian, say some, that when there is something I don't want to do, my diary goes AWOL.
So much of my week is implanted in my head, that I can survive a day or two, but this is getting serious today. Two places more to trawl, then it's emergency time! Of course the house-move didn't help my organisation any, but that may just be an excuse!
This diary loss could have severe consequences, as I was reminded this morning by the wee cartoon I was sent!