A wobbly ride to the pool first thing. I’ve got a spoke that is half in, half out on the road bike. It’s nowhere near critical, but the tight arse within refuses to spend any more money on a bicycle that is going to be replaced next season.
It always amazes me as to how important a single spoke is in holding the mechanics together.
I was crap at physics, but I can still appreciate the power of a single spoke.
Of more concern was the crapness of roads. I’ve clocked four broken glass stretches on the short sprint to the pool. I put it down to the Fresher’s season over at the University.
The swim itself was no-nonsense. Straight in, 40 lengths, straight out.
It felt good.
A light touch of a working day; well - light in terms of output, slightly stressful when it came to some rather severe company wide tech issues.
Protocols and Plan B. And even Plan C.
It was all covered.
I spent the early evening arseing around with some online responsive twaddle for something that I am hopeful of rolling out tomorrow. It's not exactly top secret to those that know me, but it may or may not happen.
And then an evening of trying to settle down and watch the football, but finding myself getting the house ready ahead of the internal work that is about to be carried out.
All of the external stuff should be finished tomorrow. Bye bye scaffolding, hello indoor dust sheets.
I took the opportunity to re-think my home entertainment system.
By that I mean I put in the shed an ancient analogue TV, along with a not so ancient analogue TV, and then upgraded the office digital TV to the bedroom.
I still won't watch it. I'm neither proud or ashamed to say that Eastenders on my iPad each evening is one of my daily highlights.
I do remember watching the 1989 FA Cup Final on analogue TV1. It still works. I've tried to find a taker for it, but these things are now impossible to even give away.
Of course I could go all rock 'n' roll, climb to the top of the scaffolding and throw it down from up above.
But I'm a lover, not a fighter.
Most of the time.