Thursday

I think that over 90% of the population of that section of North London adjacent to the High Barnet Branch of the Northern Line must be on holiday already. Plenty of room on the Tube this morning, and no delays, which meant that my customary doze was undisturbed by close proximity to the armpits of the great unwashed. Until Euston at least. The denizens of all points around Finsbury Park, Seven Sisters and Walthamstow are evidently NOT on holiday as the Victoria Line was packed as per usual.

Something has clearly gone right this year: I have had cheap read-in-the-loo books from both my direct line manager and the boss above him for Christmas. I will soon be able to tell you the origins of many colloquial phrases thanks to the one book – I have already identified a mistake, however, so that casts some doubt on the accuracy of the other snippets. Still, interesting enough in an entirely unacademic sort of way. My immediate boss knows better: I am now the proud owner of the 2006 Dr Who Annual. It’s like being 8 again except that I am in an office trying to draft responses to idiot questions from MPs.

I am knocking off early tonight (this afternoon). I want to wander into the West End and pick up my delivery of comics and such. I may treat myself to a CD or DVD or two, too. For once, I have enough spare room on my debit card that I don’t need to touch the recently paid-off credit cards. Of course, being as organised as I am, I have yet to purchase pressies for my Goddaughter or her little brother. I know what to buy, and where best to attempt the purchase, but locating an outlet is problematic. Why are there no Woolworths in central London? Ah well, I’ll pay a visit to the Finchley branch tomorrow if the worst comes to the worst. Hopefully they will have what I’m after.

Thursday

I think that over 90% of the population of that section of North London adjacent to the High Barnet Branch of the Northern Line must be on holiday already. Plenty of room on the Tube this morning, and no delays, which meant that my customary doze was undisturbed by close proximity to the armpits of the great unwashed. Until Euston at least. The denizens of all points around Finsbury Park, Seven Sisters and Walthamstow are evidently NOT on holiday as the Victoria Line was packed as per usual.

Something has clearly gone right this year: I have had cheap read-in-the-loo books from both my direct line manager and the boss above him for Christmas. I will soon be able to tell you the origins of many colloquial phrases thanks to the one book – I have already identified a mistake, however, so that casts some doubt on the accuracy of the other snippets. Still, interesting enough in an entirely unacademic sort of way. My immediate boss knows better: I am now the proud owner of the 2006 Dr Who Annual. It’s like being 8 again except that I am in an office trying to draft responses to idiot questions from MPs.

I am knocking off early tonight (this afternoon). I want to wander into the West End and pick up my delivery of comics and such. I may treat myself to a CD or DVD or two, too. For once, I have enough spare room on my debit card that I don’t need to touch the recently paid-off credit cards. Of course, being as organised as I am, I have yet to purchase pressies for my Goddaughter or her little brother. I know what to buy, and where best to attempt the purchase, but locating an outlet is problematic. Why are there no Woolworths in central London? Ah well, I’ll pay a visit to the Finchley branch tomorrow if the worst comes to the worst. Hopefully they will have what I’m after.