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I'm pleased to say that the UK put its clocks forward last night.
Winter is over, at least in theory. Sadly, the weather is not obliged to observe bureaucratic niceties.
Whilst I look forward to the last Sunday in March, it doesn't do my body clock any good and I get jet lag without the tiresome business of actually travelling anywhere.
The problem was compounded last night when I was awoken by Dad pounding on my bedroom door at 0530 (0430 Body Time).
My first thoughts were that he was ill or had fallen over but it turned out that our visiting Labradog needed to be let out.
The trouble is that Dad uses the same tone of panic stricken alarm for everything, whether it is an emergency threat to life and limb, or the requirements of the dog to be allowed out to attend to matters of his personal comfort.
It frightens the living daylights out of me and last night's sleep pattern was shot to bits. In sum, I'm knackered.
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