Since we are entering the season of televisual repeats, I fet it appropriate and easier to reuse a previous title for this blog. But it does perfectly describe how Wednesday fits in to the working week; either the peak or the trough, depending on whether your glass is half full, half empty or you ordered it with a burger. This does of course assume you are a five-day-a-week kind of chap (or chapess). You may of course be a shift-worker, run a different on/off work routine (you know, the seven days on, three days off type of thing), or simply enjoy working at the weekends. If you are any of these types of chaps (or chapesses), then please invent your own analogy for what Wednesday is in your routine. Maybe send me a comment via the blog with your ideas. Usual rules apply*.
Anyway, I am in the office four days this week, which means near enough four hour return trip, what with the weather and the traffic and all that. This does wear me out slowly, but I do help make the journeys less boring with some interesting audio company. Last week I was kept company by a number of podcasts on the old iWotsit, which included the Friday Night Comedy (Radio 4 I'm afraid), Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo's film review (five stars) and also, as a one off (or five off to be precise) the short-listed stories in the BBC National Short Story Award. I have to say I enjoyed two of them greatly. The art is in the fact that you need to have characterisation and story in a very short format, and that does tend to separate the men from the boys (or the women from the girls). My two favourites were:
- My Daughter the Racist by Helen Oyeyemi
- Butcher's Perfume by Sarah Hall
I urge you to download all and make your own decisions. Needless to say that the first and second prize went to two of the others, and on reflection, I quite liked both of those as well, but would have placed them below both of the above.
That's the problem with me and my book taste. I like what I like and it tends to be a little bit lower brow than the stuff that really gets acclaim. My sister is a librarian and an avid reader, and she often recommends books to me and, sadly, I rarely enjoy them as much as my own books. And I know that on any absolute level (if such a thing exists), the books my sister recommends are "better" than those I enjoy, but then books are art, and art is subjective, so hey ho it's off to work we go. At least that's what it says in the book I am reading right now**.
Also need to say thank you to Brad and Angelina. We visited them at the weekend and had a lovely time. It had meant to be a meet up with other friends also, whose aliases I have sadly forgotten, so let's call them Charles and Nigella, but C&N were both very ill, so it ended up being just the four of us, plus two maggots each. The maggots disappeared upstairs, only to reappear for food, and to do their latest show, which, thanks to a CBBC show, was a magic show this time round. The show followed the usual routine, with Brad and Angelina's maggot 1 compering the show, and generally acting as the glue to hold it all together, with various sets done by each of the children, except for the two youngest who, at the last minute, decide they don't want to do their slot after all. I have to say, I really have no idea how they did it.
I hope your week is going well. Let's catch up before the weekend.
* No swearing, don't let the truth stand in the way of a good story, just because you can doesn't mean you should (I am talking to the Labrador in the pub on Sunday when I say this), and there are two S's in to$$er.
** Actually, I am reading a thriller right now, but, as we often say, never let the truth stand in the way of a good story. Have I said that already?