Jul 09, 2008 22:00
After the joys of school visits with 11yo children, there was the joy of printing at "work". I could moan more, but that would get too identifying for words. And that's without the dots on the horizon being zulu warriors and you are standing next to Michael* Caine.
I am basking in a happy feedback induced glow.
And, on the reading front, "The Yiddish Policemen's Union" by Michael Chabon has picked up more speed and anything involving a farcical Bond-ian escape from some nasty people while handcuffed to a bed has to be very good.
For the unwary, "work" is my volunteer job of a vague archaeological nature
And I really cannot spell Micheal without a spell checker.
book recommendations