The week winds down

I have just completed my late lunch. I wandered across to Marks & Sparks, bought a tuna and sweet corn sarnie, some of their in-house cheesy Wotsits that are better than the “real thing”, being as they are, a sort of orange, cheesy heroin for lunchtime, and an Eccles cake. I shouldn’t have bought the Eccles cake but I did. It called to me. In fact the half dozen or so there all called to me, but I resisted them in the main and bought the one with the waggiest tail, the brightest eyes and the wettest nose. As you do. I shall consume it with a cup of coffee at around 3.30 as I anticipate the onset of the weekend. Assuming I can ignore its siren song until then, of course.

Mmmm… Eccles cakes…

I am wondering whether or not I can get away from the office relatively early today. Provided certain people manage to meet the ludicrous deadlines I set them, it might be achievable. The week has bounced by reasonably fast and passing fair with but one metaphorical cloud on the horizon, so I count it generally fine. Nonetheless, I like my weekends and Friday evenings particularly so. I may end up frittering my free time, but on Fridays, that hasn’t happened yet and the gorgeous possibilities of not having to go to work for two days just lie there tantalizingly. Yes, Friday nights are my favourites; they are all about potential.

My spell checker wishes to turn “wotsits” into “wetsuits”. That is a bit kinky by anyone’s standards.

The week winds down

I have just completed my late lunch. I wandered across to Marks & Sparks, bought a tuna and sweet corn sarnie, some of their in-house cheesy Wotsits that are better than the “real thing”, being as they are, a sort of orange, cheesy heroin for lunchtime, and an Eccles cake. I shouldn’t have bought the Eccles cake but I did. It called to me. In fact the half dozen or so there all called to me, but I resisted them in the main and bought the one with the waggiest tail, the brightest eyes and the wettest nose. As you do. I shall consume it with a cup of coffee at around 3.30 as I anticipate the onset of the weekend. Assuming I can ignore its siren song until then, of course.

Mmmm… Eccles cakes…

I am wondering whether or not I can get away from the office relatively early today. Provided certain people manage to meet the ludicrous deadlines I set them, it might be achievable. The week has bounced by reasonably fast and passing fair with but one metaphorical cloud on the horizon, so I count it generally fine. Nonetheless, I like my weekends and Friday evenings particularly so. I may end up frittering my free time, but on Fridays, that hasn’t happened yet and the gorgeous possibilities of not having to go to work for two days just lie there tantalizingly. Yes, Friday nights are my favourites; they are all about potential.

My spell checker wishes to turn “wotsits” into “wetsuits”. That is a bit kinky by anyone’s standards.