The cycle of life
No sleep thanks to final curry and beers. Lay awake on Lorraine's Tempur pillows thinking about work, and I got a surprising amount done. Finally fell asleep at 7ish to wake up shortly after to a cup of tea, and a listen with Lorraine (who blames me for her new Archers addiction) to the 60th anniversary issue of The Archers on BBC's play again. Archers regular Nigel Pargetter was slaughtered on the altar of sensation and fell Buster Keatonishly off a roof. Meanwhile someone somewhere else had a baby. It's the cycle of life innit? Yawn.
Lorraine and I discovered that the hash tag for discussing this on twitter was #RATTC. This means rocking Ambridge to the core (Ambridge is the name of a fictional village the unfortunate Nigel and the rest live in) and was adopted ironically by tweeters after the BBC had trailed the anniversary issue as something that would 'rock Ambridge to the core'.
Slightly zombified I left Lorraine's house to snow falling in single crystals. Home to pack away my Christmas tree, and do numerous unglamourous chores. However I managed to fix my computer issues. It was iTunes: simply switch off Genius and the computer worked perfectly again.
Spoke to my Indiana Joneish mother, now with Mas safely back home. Sounds like they all had a wonderful time in Costa Rica.
Otherwise quiet, interspersed with morale-boosting bouts of Frasier. Lorraine got me series 1-11, so this will get me through January. Drank green tea, ate lightly. Liver and kidneys giving little quivers of appreciation. Standing now on the shore of the year's work which surges in like a tsunami on the beach. There's no point running.
No sleep thanks to final curry and beers. Lay awake on Lorraine's Tempur pillows thinking about work, and I got a surprising amount done. Finally fell asleep at 7ish to wake up shortly after to a cup of tea, and a listen with Lorraine (who blames me for her new Archers addiction) to the 60th anniversary issue of The Archers on BBC's play again. Archers regular Nigel Pargetter was slaughtered on the altar of sensation and fell Buster Keatonishly off a roof. Meanwhile someone somewhere else had a baby. It's the cycle of life innit? Yawn.
Lorraine and I discovered that the hash tag for discussing this on twitter was #RATTC. This means rocking Ambridge to the core (Ambridge is the name of a fictional village the unfortunate Nigel and the rest live in) and was adopted ironically by tweeters after the BBC had trailed the anniversary issue as something that would 'rock Ambridge to the core'.
Slightly zombified I left Lorraine's house to snow falling in single crystals. Home to pack away my Christmas tree, and do numerous unglamourous chores. However I managed to fix my computer issues. It was iTunes: simply switch off Genius and the computer worked perfectly again.
Spoke to my Indiana Joneish mother, now with Mas safely back home. Sounds like they all had a wonderful time in Costa Rica.
Otherwise quiet, interspersed with morale-boosting bouts of Frasier. Lorraine got me series 1-11, so this will get me through January. Drank green tea, ate lightly. Liver and kidneys giving little quivers of appreciation. Standing now on the shore of the year's work which surges in like a tsunami on the beach. There's no point running.
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