Why is it my mind and body conspire to make the middle of the night the time when all my thinking gets done? 

I only went to bed at 11pm. So I've had only a few hours sleep. 

Maybe it's the heat. I don't know. Anyway, what I came here to say is that my decision regarding whom to visit in July has been made that bit easier, and then harder. My best friend said that we should catch up next year some time when we both know where we're going to be. Mildly disappointed about that, but hey ho. Then my sister's host family in Spain (for whom she is going to be an au pair in 4 weeks) have said that I would be most welcome to stay with them.

This is indeed an enticing proposition. My sister and I are now much better at getting along than we were a couple of years ago, and I would probably only stay with them for a week and then go to Barcelona for a week. It's strange that I thought initially that I would go for a month, but have changed my plans in order to ensure job security. 

So now it's 3.25am, I think I'm tired, but it's also sooooo hot. Doesn't the weather understand I'm British? I can't cope with this oppressve heat. 

Going to try and read some more of Virginia Woolf's To The Lighthouse. I that doesn't help me sleep, I don't know what will.