I have been incredibly busy for the last few days. I mean really fucking busy. It’s getting to the point where I’m waking up in the middle of the night for a piss and I’m checking my emails. I don’t recognise myself.
Anyway, I get home today and Mrs. tyger has made me a little writing space at the bottom of the stairs. I’m chuffed. It’s small, but very cosy and professional. I have my laptop, my desktop PC, my printer, and all my cables (oh, my beautiful cables…). So now I have a little place to myself to write and work. Brilliant, eh?
I’m in Suffolk tomorrow. Should be fun.
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Lucky sod. I still have 10 tonnes of rubble and various crap to excavate from the cellar before I have my own little space. Although Mrs Penguin has already muted the idea that it would make a nice jacuzzi and spa room. Hmm..
Nice one! Last year the not-wife’s dad cloes up our staircase creating a place for the PC and my burgeoning CD collection.. I get the feeling that the not wife would have happily put me in the shed!
PP, Get a bloody move on then! I don’t know why she puts up with you. Sounds to me like you owe her a Jacuzzi. You grumpy git.
Jams, why is it they want rid of us? I mean, we’re great, aren’t we?
I think the answer is we grate!
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