Woke up this mornin'...

...And finished my books. Having counted every bean and travel card, and tidied and organised every file and folder I have, I sent the spreadsheets into cyberspace and Seana my glamourous accountant.

I think of this process as accessing my inner Romy, although the actual Romy resists this notion. The figures tell me I need to bend the Kenny will towards spilling more doubloons into my coffers over the next few months, but that also I may have put aside more money for tax than I needed to, which could be nice.

When Lorraine came around in the evening we simply went to a couple of pubs and had a drink. Ending up in one around the corner from me, where a blues band called Smokestack were playing rather well. Beer and the blues and Lorraine were a fine antidote to the week of spreadsheets.