Yarks. So busy at work lately. I'm not used to that at all. There's always plenty to do, but normally it's quite possible to leave it til later or avoid it altogether, but this stuff is of the unignorable variety. I'm not complaining, incidentally, and it brings me back to one of the great paradoxes: given that I really don't mind work on those occasions when I get around to actually doing any, why is it that I dedicate so much effort to not doing any? Answers on a strike-delayed postcard.
Prospective parliamentary candidate visited the other day. I was non-commital and unenthusiastic, but in a way that was designed neither to encourage nor discourage the chap. I'm sure he means well. I just don't feel that political at this point in my life. Another paradox, since the election and some of the issues surrounding it are of some considerable interest to me, yet I feel no desire to take part, even if only to steal a pencil.
Weekend's are very nice I always think. I'm off to have one right now. Toodles.