This morning I got off the road and rode my bicycle on the footpath for about 20 seconds, to avoid some traffic.

Which is illegal.

That makes me a Criminal.

Which means I am no longer eligible for the looming jury duty .

Yay.

Actually, the fact that my small team is about to lose two essential members, and that we now have a massive pile of deadline work crap to get through, would mean that I could easily get out of jury duty now.

But the fact that we are about to lose two essential members, and that we now have a massive pile of deadline work crap to get through, means that I will soon be doing the deadline work crap of three people.

Which means the dreaded looming jury duty is actually looking like a welcome break. A holiday, if you will.

Plus, it could be a lot of fun to judge people.

Just like Old Testament God. Or something.

Pity we don't have the death penalty…

I've been playing guitar on an island out in the middle of a lake during my morning breaks.

Just doing some exercises, although I am also having some little bursts of musical creativity.

People have been seeing me walk around with the guitar bag and they stop and ask whether I play.

"Oh, you mean this thing? Let me let you in on a little secret: The bag is really just stuffed with newspaper. There's no guitar inside. I just carry this bag around to get chicks."

I have been three days without a shower at home now.

We have renovations going on downstairs to make our house (allegedly) more valuable for sale.
It involves moving the hot water cylinder and the wash house around.

The builders and plumber are from some godless Asian country. Probably Mongolia.

They were meant to fix the problem two nights ago. Last night one of them came upstairs.

"Please… you… come downstairs, now!"

I was a little scared. There were five of them waiting downstairs and I thought I was walking into a Triad contract-bashing and my swords have, of course, already been packed away and put into storage.

They said the problem was fixed. I could have a shower again.

Phew.

They left.

I turned on the shower. No water.
I went back downstairs and had a look around. I discovered the piping for the shower and hand basin was missing.

So I am now totally confused as to what the problem they thought they'd fixed was.

Must lose something in the translation.

Anyway. Lucky my company has a shower block…

This is my eldest daughter's understanding of why I go to work:

"Daddy goes to work to make money so mummy can buy me things."

Which is surprisingly close to D-Missus' understanding of why I go to work...

I'm off to a "boys' poker night" now.

We're playing with make-believe money. Which is fortunate, because make-believe money is all I possess.

It's good to get out. I used to go out with people after work all the time, but that's been pretty much non-existent since the kids came along.

I may even drink a beer or two tonight.

Party. Animal.

I like the word "poker".

I don't know why. I guess it sounds dirty.

Mmmmm.

(But not in a not-showering-for-three-nights kind of way.)