Transport for London and in particular, London Underground Limited have been utterly piss-poor in their performance this week.  Track obstructions, delays, cock-ups, signal failures have just made the average morning journey at least 20% longer and the general sense of irritation that permeates each carriage gets more and more tangible with each stop.  Buses haven’t been much better but I blame the lazy douche-bags who live in Stratford, unable to part with their precious cars whilst they use them for journies which are easily walkable, especially that of the school run.
 
I have finished work on the ezine for History Month and finally got an order placed for my customised stationery and an iPod Touch for the magazine competition.  It doesn’t look like the PowerPoint display is going to go ahead unless I come up with some slides for myself.  Even more.  But I don’t have much creativity left in me – it’s all been sucked out by January.  The urge to jack everything in and do nothing is stronger than before, why not let it all go to pot?  Because I have one of those conscience things.
 
There’s very little else to report.  Weight loss is back firmly on track and I haven’t been out this week at all.  That’s it.
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