Further ramblings of a self-made pauper

Unexpectedly earlier I received a text from a harassed ellefurtle requesting sanctuary in which to continue her work on her thesis, since the vibe in Chateau Furtle has been singularly not condusive for writing. It is, I suspect, a Feng Shui thing. The Tower is aligned with the Pole Star and the Great Pyramid of Cheops. Chateau Furtle is not. Moreover my gaff is not frequented by exhibitionist pigeons which distract an eminently distract-able Furtle far too easily.

With a promised brief respite at 9pm to watch House on Channel 5, Miss Furtle is intending to burn the midnight oil to catch up on the work she has to do. In and of itself this is not a problem, but in an attempt to ensure she manages this feat of scholasticism, she has insisted that there be Red Bull and wine gums available. They are. In fact, she is sitting next to a fridge maintained by a geek and kept by his computer, which means that she has access, in addition, to 16 cans of Coke, 2 cans of Lemonade, 5 Mars Bars and 2 Snickers Bars.

This worries me, for tonight is a school night and a carbohydrate enriched Furtle is a fearsome prospect.

I am resolved that when I go to bed tonight, and she is still working until the wee small hours, or indeed, on the amount of fizz available to her, until the fat large hours, that I shall wear a post-it note on my back.

The post-it will read:

In answer to the FAQ;
Yes,
Yes,
No.

PTO.

It's a school night!

I may just get some sleep thus armoured.