It was the morning after the night before on the Trail.
Fallen branches had to be swerved on my bicycle ride in.
A 30 lethargy morning dash followed in the pool, and then I had to peg it back to base for another work webinar.
But change is good.
I positioned myself all day downstairs at the desk from the Raj / Colchester. I had the mad cat for company.
I don't think that she appreciated all of the Late Junction mid-morning noodlings. She nodded off when it all became a little space jazz.
Work, work, work.
Plus @RobertElms playing Luka. Always something of a moment.
Luncheon was spent escaping for some EXTREME window cleaning.
It needed doing, but climbing up my ERRECT ladder during a minor estuary wilds gale wasn't the wisest thing to do.
What kind of twat cleans his windows ahead of a rainstorm, then rakes the garden ahead of a gale?
A bit more work to carry me through until early evening, and then I finished off Wednesday by writing the Londonist piece on Lambeth housing.
Dirty job, etc.
Oh yeah - I keep on playing the first albums by Athlete / Thrills / Doves.
Like middle-age never happened.
I went to bed with a smile on my face, having found out the folly that is straight talking, honest politics.