A lane to myself for the morning swim. I celebrated by putting in 50 power lengths. I felt strong until the end.
Slightly wobbly in the shower, mind.
Back at base and it was a working morning mixed with cricket catch ups, anarchic gardening and waiting for Mr Delivery Man to drop off an entire lighting set up for the Sunny Stockwell flat.
I managed to escape for a brief stroll mid-afternoon. Nothing too exciting - picking up Swiss currency for Anna ahead of a snowboarding trip.
It looks like Monopoly money to me.
I had a mixed soundtrack for the working day: Late Junction, Gilles Peterson, Robert Elms with Paul Simenon (ACE), back to Peterson, and then a catch up with Newsnight from Monday.
The General Election predictors and subsequent policies make for grim viewing.
Tuesday evening was spent trying to stack up a few Brixton Buzz stories, chasing quotes and having my head buried deep in Council docs.
I started to give a little thought to my digital death.
I have so many sites, services, content - all statched away with only access via me.
I need to put together an offline document that gives access to these in case of, well, in case of y'know.
This is especially important for my work sites.
But it's a bloody depressing job just thinking about it.
Plus where to start? And how to implement?
Online services are available, but I just don't trust any service up in the cloud with all of this highly sensitive login information.
I think that I'll resort to pen and paper, and the file it away with my will in the bomb box up in the loft.