In all my years of walking after work, it had never occurred to me, not even once to take the tube straight from work and get off at Mile End, walking past Bow, the Flyover and all the way home. Yeah, there’s the joy of inhaling traffic fumes from one of the busiest intersections in London but that’s no different to walking parallel to Park Lane or up Grosvenor Road or London’s dirtiest street Vauxhall Bridge Road (apparently). But that’s what I did last night, taking about an hour to get home but that’s because I swung by Hallingswharf to see the Doctor, as well as running yet more errands.

It’s been quite the sleepy day today; with it being half-term week for some colleagues, a good chunk of the office is out today on monster patrol. The tube this morning was full of nervous looking parents and kids that looked as if they’d overdosed on sugar. I think the sedate pace is very much welcome by all concerned given the frantic nature of the workload recently. And it sets the scene quite nicely for the weekend.

There’s nothing major in my diary for Saturday and Sunday aside from a coffee & cake date with Paul on Saturday afternoon. I need to make my way down to Stratford Market at some point to stock up on the usual supplies for the Doctor’s birthday – probably before I go see Paul. How anyone can eat Biltong continues to be a mystery. Jerky is rancid enough but Biltong…ugh. And there might be another Risk session on Monday…we’ll see.

I’m please to report that Lulu’s Shout has finally stopped playing in my head. However, the theme tune for Maid Marian and Her Merry Men is the current earworm which actually makes me sing it sotto voce. Great series though; I only remember the odd snippet of a few episodes (the one with the “Whitish Knight” stands out with the singing) but it was very much a junior version of Blackadder.

As you can imagine, Sickipedia is full of Oscar Pietorius gags; most of which are the usual predictable tosh. I was hoping for more general Valentine’s Day jokes to regale the singletons in my address book. However, it made me think of the BBC news article a couple of years ago which attempted to dissect why people tell sick jokes about tragedies. Some argued it was a release, an attempt to lighten the somber mood whilst others stated that joke tellers were being narcissistic in a particularly vile way. There is a difference between telling a joke in private and going public with it – hence why so many people who tell jokes in front of the wrong audience end up facing some sort of disciplinary action.

The other point to make is how the media really have the public enthralled by this one; other than the fact Pietorius is a medal winner, we (in the UK at least) know next to nothing about him. All the conversations I’ve been hearing and eavesdropping are lifted directly from online news sites. In circumstances such as these where the media really are the only direct source of information, they tend to run and run with the story given the amount of control they have. I don’t think this one is going to rest quietly any time soon. And that fact, will really have to hurt the family and friends of the victim.