The end of the working week

Today I wheeled The Shitter from the garage, Slipped my laptop in to my backpack* and headed in to the nearest depot of The Neat & Tidy Piano Movers.

I had expenses to submit and prefer to head in to the office on Fridays for a couple of reasons.

Firstly;  Friday has a "casual" dress code which is generally interpreted as "come to work dressed like a tramp" by my colleagues. This means that my sweatshirt, jeans and Dr Martens combo was going to look positively upmarket.** Secondly; Very few of my colleagues actually head in to the office on Fridays*** so I can spread myself out and don't get dragged in to fascinating conversations about router configs or football.

The morning went well and I had completed almost everything I needed to by eleven o'clock. I wandered out of the office and five minutes later found my self sat in the Barber's chair getting a much needed haircut. That took about quarter of an hour and I then headed over the road to the sandwich shop before heading back in to the office.

I lunched and then worked for another couple of hours, but eventually reached the point where I actually had nothing else that really needed doing. I had achieved the goals that I had set for myself so I headed home.

I would like to say that I spent the rest of the afternoon on a domestic project, but I actually hit the sofa and had a kip. I am not sure if it is the hay fever or the antihistamines but I felt absolutely zonked.

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* This was much to the annoyance of Eddy the cat. I tend to leave my laptop bag on the floor in the home office, beside the desk. For some strange reason Eddy has taken a liking to the bag and it is near the top of the list of his most preferred sleeping places. He is curled up, asleep there as I sit and type this.
** I swear I have seen sandals, shorts and a football shirt presented as the height of sartorial elegance by certain members of staff.
*** This should be read as "actually do any work on a Friday"