Mab of Dream

The absolute trouble with trying to work that little bit longer, to make up time, is that you have to contend with a) Forcing yourself out of a warm bed into a room like an ice-box, whilst dead on your feet because you're exhausted; and b) the Stafford Road. The upshot is that I get to work way past 9, which means that I'm working over anyway to make that up, so the only place I can make up the 2 and a half hours I owe them is to cut my dinner hour in half.

Ok, that's the way it has to be.

I'm also working bloody hard to ensure that my work is completely up-to-date - the regular duties aren't too bad, as they are up-to-date anyway, but the occasional ones... I want to leave my job in the knowledge that they have a level playing field to train my replacement on.

Left work at half 5, having pulled only about half an hour in, and went over to the library. Tanya Luhrmann's thesis has arrived, but it's restricted access and it's on film, so I had to borrow paper and pen for notes and then sit in there reading it.

I left the library at about 8, and drove home canting with Cabochon about the weekend. Arrived home to find my computer had no less than four Trojans in it, which my virus checkers (both AVG and Cleaner) had found. Whoever was in there had disabled Black Ice. I sorted those and with a clean computer, sat and ate my tea while sorting through e-mails.

I responded to Selena Fox and Raymond Buckland; e-mailed my supervisor, Mike Cunningham, and that was that MA wise. Other than that, I concentrated on the e-mails in my inbox, rather than groups. It was a case of having to - Yahoo is having a lover's tiff with Freeserve, so I only had 9 Witchgrove e-mails all night... considering that more like 109 had been posted...

Fell into bed exhausted at about 10 to 2am.

yours
Mab
xxxxx