I woke up to a (form) rejection.
Got an email to say the house we were hoping to buy has been sold - to someone else.
And this afternoon, after wrestling the Boo round the shop - no, put it down, no, put it down, not that, no, not for you - buying some fluorescent orange cheese because he'd bitten it THROUGH THE WRAPPER - got back to the car, put the Boo in the front so I could put the bags in the back (I have to go through the front seat cause the lock clicky thing is bust), realised the car was rolling backwards. Quite fast. Boo, at eighteen months, while unable to say his own name, is apparently capable of letting off a handbrake. Thankfully my usual perplexity was overtaken by panic and I managed to push past the confused baby and hoik on the handbrake, leaving the car diagonally across the carpark and my hands shaking.
Still. Also this happened:
Boo fell in love in the library. He met a girl from Canada, gave her a very gentle hug and followed her round, pointing at the heart on her jumper.
I found a new way of putting on eye make up.
The car only rolled a few feet and not over mine.
Roll on Tuesday. Actually, stay where you are, I'll come to you.