I'd be so happy.

I'm so sorry.

Nothing brings a street together like watching fire engines. (I live on a very quiet street!)

Ugh see that would be interesting at least. This is literally "we're leasing a building, here is how people will travel around it" and finding ten million ways to say "Home City is tiny, they will walk or take a bus".

Out of office is on! I am running a bath and making a list of what needs to be achieved before I abandon my house to the flooring people.

Even my Very Devout grandmother had stuff she went "ah, what does the Vatican really know about that then? about. (Mostly divorce on which her point of view was: not desirable but sometimes probably for the best overall.

I do occasionally fall into this trap. I think the vocally online adult converts remind me of the tedious evangelicals I encountered at university who refused to accept that I, and most cradle Catholics I know, do a lot of cherry picking which bits we truly believe in.

I am pro the concept of having to write these things but ... it's a fairly small student accommodation block and we have no control over how people travel when it's not to campus. And you can see campus from the block.

The beautiful floors will be worth it, I repeat increasingly grimly.

Thus far this process has revealed woodworm and a big chunk of missing and damaged plaster. I am gritting my teeth and telling myself it will all be okay in the end.

I will preface this with the fact that I am a big proponent of active travel. But, I am *not* a big fan of trying to write a travel plan for student accommodation which is within sight of the campus which makes reference to modes by which students will get here.

I love it so much. An entirely unserious sound.

My outlook has also wondered if I need help preparing for a meeting I've set up, but is also obsessed with how it can help me understand the risks. The risk, right now, is me punching my PC monitor tbh.

I'm really good at operations management when I'm being paid for it. When I'm doing it around my actual job I am slapdash at best.

There was a point during one of the train strikes a few years ago where the General Secretary of one of the unions was asked if he realised that strikes on X Day would cause mass disruption for travel. I admired his ability to control his face and tone whilst saying "yes, that's the point".

As I am in the midst of trying to line up removals companies and storage facilities for a large percentage of my house (getting floors redone), I am increasingly bored of doing my actual job but for my life.

Disruption is rather the point, no?

I have braved the Big Tesco and have reminded myself of just how much I loathe the Big Tesco.

Absolutely! Very "I read the Sunday supplement".

Yesssss. The ingredients are in reach, the space is useful and used. Genuine cooking happens there.

It's in professorial hiring committees.

Fewer (no) competent women (people).

I also remember reading a lot of utterly awful Victorian poetry as an undergrad. We read it because it was useful to see what types of poetry made women money. Very little of it was good. It was Hallmark card quality. It made money and kept families afloat but to read? ~shudder~

Yeahhhhh. I just imagined a life where every play I saw was a Chapman play and I do not like that life At All.

I wrote sooooo many words about 'A Mad World, My Masters'. It is utter dross. Does it say something interesting about what people chose to watch? Sure! Is it good? Fucking hell no it's absolutely awful.

So many of them are sooooo bad

And airport thrillers are an interesting field of study! What do we choose to read when we don't have endless choice? When we have limited time to choose? What hooks us? Why are so many of them about spies now? What drives audiences? - that's the perpetual question!!

Thomas Middleton, who I love despite writing a PhD on his plays, wrote some plays we would despise if they were new works now. They are still fascinating and we should read them as ways to understand the theatre appetite of the early 1600s. But some of them are the equivalent of airport thrillers.

I'm not agreeing with Marche, per se, but a lot of them are, to modern readers, bad. What is interesting is both *why* we think they are bad *and* what they tell us about the period they are from.

Yes, Mr Lycra on a Brompton, the traffic lights do actually also apply to you! I know it's a surprise but I'm sure you'll adjust.