Back into Walker. Either this job will be finished soon, or I’m going to snap and run screaming around the building. I’ll probably finish the job: I can’t be bothered with the expense of buying the axe, although as it would be for just the one killing spree I probably wouldn’t need a very expensive one. Just as long as it has a non-slip handle.
(Please note, the above is ironic. Think of it as a Hallowe’n joke, albeit more John Carpenter than Great Pumpkin. Can’t be too careful these days. Thank you for your attention.)
At home the evening is spent bubbling gently and failing to achieve anything. My mother phones up asking for a compilation of virtuoso guitarists (actually, yes, I think that’s quite an unusual request too) and I spend some time researching same. Not much of a day, really, but what do you expect from a Thursday?