A blue sky day, and a blue water swim.
I soaked up the sun during the short ride to the pool. The extra energy combined with the pasta the night before delivered a power swim.
Fifty lengths, and a lane to myself as well.
The racist spa has somehow become the sexist spa as well.
I felt incredibly ill at ease and departed.
The day was all set for work shifts and the ODI. But I missed the Sri Lanka innings, and then the bloody rain set in.
Gilles Peterson and the second half of his ACE Blue Note set kept me company throughout the rest of the working afternoon.
The mad cat managed to provide few work distractions for once. Which is just as well, seeing as though I've just put in a hefty Christmas order for cat food and litter crap.
Pay to play, darling. Pay to play.
I finished a perfectly functional Wednesday publishing the content from SE21 earlier in the week, with one eye on the Chelsea match.