September has either seen the first of the autumn/winter colds or the last of the summer colds sweeping the office. Mr Chandler has been brought down by them but then again, he’s Australian and naturally they’re a million times worse – or according to his hyperbole. Alas I’ve definitely been infected but nowhere near as bad, not least because I’ve been upping my Green Tea and garlic intake and therefore some mild congestion and a bit of sneezing has been all that’s affected me. And this morning it’s all but faded so naturally this weekend’s pleasure will be rubbing it in, advocating the robustness of the British immune system.

Mind you, it seems to have given me something of an appetite as I felt ravenous for most of yesterday. I was able to practice restraint until 3.45 when I couldn’t restrain myself and popped down to Nero for a Cappuccino and tried one of their new Chocolate Crunch slices. Still not happy about “The Cloud’s” no fun wi-fi policy but at least the cake was good. It was like a softer version of the Rocky Road but all things considered, I still hold Starbuck’s former Belgian Chocolate Cornflake Square in high esteem.

Of course what this led to was a sugar crash about an hour later, right when I was going out to meet Brendan. Met him in the Griffin and we both appeared to be somewhat out of it but had a drink and went on to Coriander where the food perked us right up. Very not bad and I shall make every effort to go there again. We then ended up in Barcode, trashed our fellow punters, many of whom were munters [sic] and left around 9. I’m glad we ended the evening earlier rather than later as I was able to have a bath, watch Bad Girls and respond to a bunch of messages online.

Payday is finally here and I’ve already mentally spent it. I really want to get back on course with my household expenditures and look at boring things like replacing all the crockery in the house and buying a new set of saucepans. Modern life is grand and all that but this maturity lark can really be a drag. Besides which, some of my everyday plates are over a decade in age and really need replacing, particularly given wear and tear. And idiot ex-housemates.

Speaking of the unspeakable, the gruesome twosome drifted into my thoughts yesterday during my lunchtime constitutional. I happened to have a brief mull over Xmas and the likelihood that the current pair would be staying in Stratford or not and it got me to consider Ren and Stimpy. Then my thoughts got considerably dark, 18 certificate in nature (nor R18, just horror 18) and a gruesome leer appeared on my face. Yes, I still wish them nothing but ill-will, malice, malevolence and hatred which isn’t pathologically sound but I’d really rather not them wish them a long a productive life. At least I’m not a hypocrite.