I am incredibly envious of those lucky people who do not have to work. Three days out of the office and I am relaxed; the prospect of the morning drive to work still far enough in the distance that I can shrug my shoulders and not worry about it.

I’ve come to realise that the drive into and out from the city adds so much stress to my day that it’s actually the major thing that makes me resent going to work. The job itself is nice. When I work from home, I’m refreshed, productive, and I can easily put in at least three more hours than I might consider while sitting at my desk in the office, so that makes four hours.

The little dog is happy, I’m happy, we’re all happy.

But this week, what have I been up to with this precious time off?

V
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Y

L
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T
T
L
E

Oh, those extra hard returns have worn me out and I could do with a snooze, but I have stuff to do in the kitchen soon. Following on from the fun of pancake day yesterday, I figured it would be a good idea to put the remaining eggs and milk to good use and make some batter for toady hole. No rush though, I can take things at my o w n p a c e because I am enjoying my freedom from the constraints of time. Unfortunately, there’s an ominous rumbling in my stomach that won’t let me leave things too long.

Still, I have some time to ponder stuff, such as, why does the little dog smell worse after I’ve bathed him? He’s sitting next to me, licking his nether regions and smelling of, I can’t even describe it. I’m going to contact Molton Brown and ask them to start a hypoallergenic pet range.

STOP. LICKING. ME!

Are your passive aggressive tweets intended for me?
Twitter is a funny thing. Actually, it’s a pretty dumb thing and I use it mainly for looking at posts about poor driving and parking, and swearing travel updates. I pretend to be bothered about politics so I follow some boring politico hacks who fill up my feed with “1 of 400” tweets instead of just writing an article and linking to it. Then there are the luvvies who use Twitter to tweet @theirmates and to show the rest of us how amazing they are with their 500,000 followers while they only follow people who’ve been on the telly.

And then there are those who you don’t follow, and they don’t follow you, but you have history, so you check them out on occasion to see if they’re still unbearable twats. This makes you an unbearable twat for doing it in the first place, but there’s such a sense of satisfaction in reading confirmation that they are, and will always be, the biggest cunt on the planet. They post little snippets that you suspect are to dig at you and sometimes, when life is a little wearisome, they get the bile rising. Most of the time though, all they elicit is an audible roll of the eyes.

Anyway, time to get the oven on and those bags o’ mystery cooking.

I do hope there are no avalanches or terrible accidents in the French Alps next week.