The weather forecast said there would be sunshine from 10am this morning. The weather forecast was four hours out, but finally, the cloud has cleared and the warm rays of the sun are making the new Arsenal stadium glint like a, er, big new stadium in the distance.
It's Good Friday today. Most normal people have today off, however, in this household, bank holidays are more of an aspiration than a reality. If T'Other didn't work on a daily radio show, and if I wasn't horribly late with a few deadlines (whoooosh!) then today would have been a nice day to pop out of the city for a nice lunch somewhere nice and picturesque.
Instead, he's doing an 11 – 7pm shift, and I'm sitting here staring at my screen, trying to get one article worked into some semblance of shape whilst simultaneously trying to plan the next one in the back of my head. (If you want to know: 3000 words on collaboration and copyright, and 800 words on the government's unhealthy love of databases. I should also have submitted a paper for a conference I'm speaking at, but I've not even thought about starting that one yet. It's going to be late. Oh well.)
I'm aspiring to have both articles done by 5pm, so I can spent a couple of hours cleaning the flat before my Mum turns up tomorrow. I never seem to do anything but clean this place. Wooden floors are heaven for dustbunnies and if there's something in life I can't abide it's a dustbunny. A pox upon the creatures.
But once that's all done, it's three full days of not doing any work at all. Apart from, possibly, some proof reading.
I swear, the next bank holiday is going to be taken, by force if necessary.
Bank holidays
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You have a mum? Funny, I have a Mam.
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