Monday started with a singing West Ham Wanker in the showers at the pool, and came to a close by eating Christmas cake.
Strange days, Comrades. Strange days.
As expected, Mr Wanker was on fine form after the away win at Arsenal. Despite my protests, he's still got me down as a Happy Hammer.
I had to recount the 1991 FA Cup Semi at Villa Park in great detail to convince him of my Trent End roots.
He broke into a chorus of Blowing Bubbles as he lathered up his pubes.
If it's a Monday then it means that it's a his 'n' hers working day from home.
As ever, I was shunted to the upstairs office. I overheard one of Anna's conference calls. I turned to look at my screen and thought - yep, my job's a good 'un.
Stop / start periods of the day were punctuated with ball-by-ball commentary of Surrey down the road at Castle Park.
Having attended the first three days of the Championship match, I was convinced that this game had a draw written all over it.
The disappointment of not seeing Surrey score the winning runs was just about compensated with the probable promotion that will now follow.
C'mon the 'rrey!
Various admin tasks were then checked off: returning the old BT hub, starting a new BT contract for the third time in less than a week, and answering a few Q's that have been put my way with regards a hyperlocal research paper.
I didn't have the heart to say that it's all a load of hairy bollocks.
Hyperlocal is dead.
Long live gentrilocals.
Speaking of which, I hooked up with @Darryl1974 early evening to record another Metroknobbers.
We were both on a roll.
The half hour became 45 minutes, and even then that was with me putting the brakes on things.
We spoke about the bloody Labour leadership.
I calmed down watching West Brom Vs Man City.