The silence is partly due to the slowest developing meme podcast in history, the return of my direct boss to work after a three month absence (and the resulting raining down of major and minor tasks upon myself and the department I'm PA to) and, frankly, the lack of anything interesting to say.
Last weekend consisted of F1 and olives, as such, not much to report, other than that Fisichella deserved everything he got and kalamatas are the highest tier of olive-dom that can ever be aspired to.
I've lost 2 kilograms, another tiny achievement, possibly undone by the enormous creamy chicken and mushroom penne pasta I wolfed down at lunch yesterday.
We're giving notice on our sweet, scary council estate flat after 6 months of loving our kitchen and hating the chavs.
I have to have to have to invest in a digital camera. The yellow road sign between Waterloo and Elephant & Castle that had an arrow and the words 'You're Gorgeous' on has made up my mind on that.
Nothing more, nothing less. Time is flying. Ian and I have been together a year and a month today.
This is a 
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