The Long Dark Teatime of the Soul

"In the end, it was the Sunday afternoons he couldn't cope with, and that terrible listlessness that starts to set in about 2.55, when you know you've taken all the baths that you can usefully take that day, that however hard you stare at any given paragraph in the newspaper you will never actually read it, or use the revolutionary new pruning technique it describes, and that as you stare at the clock the hands will move relentlessly on to four o'clock, and you will enter the long dark teatime of the soul."

Douglas Adams. Naturally.

I HATE Sunday afternoons. Okay, evenings. Afternoons aren't really that bad because with enough wine, coffee, and chocolate, you can quite often extend lunchtime conversations till three or four... we had lunch at my incredibly pregnant aunt's and de facto uncle's house, and discussed baby names for the better part of two hours.

My favourites: Ringo, Dinah, Moshushu, Xerxes

They have a 50,000 Baby Names book, and there's a bit in the front about how to make up your own names to ensure originality.

Try different spelling: e.g. 'Michael' could be spelt 'Mikl'
NO IT COULD NOT
What about naming your baby after a hobby?
E.G. TRAINSPOTTING
...or a product?
E.G. COLGATE

...but I have yet to figure out what to do with Sunday evenings.

I think maybe it is time to catch up on Toothpaste for Dinner.

(note: I posted this yesterday. Then Blogger chucked a sad and everything went weird. I am not impressed.)