It's been a day on which the Toad, work, came to squat, effectively putting an end to any other sustained activity. Four hours of marking followed by four hours of administrative endeavour: not room for much else except a delicious encounter with a slice of the perfect cheesecake and a cheerful pot of tea as essayed by the Missus, a few stolen minutes watching the highlights of the footie, and a trip to the gym to attempt to iron out the crinkles resulting from the aforementioned squatting.
Not that I'm complaining (even though I am.) It pays the bills and keeps me off the streets.
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