It was Monday, I really hate work on Mondays. It’s no real different to any other day really, but I can just never get into it. I had a bug on the old project that I needed to look at, so soon got stuck into it. As the weather was beautiful yet again I took a couple of hour breaks and took the dogs out. Walked to the gym, did Combat, walked home. That’ll be it for the gym now until I come back from holiday, as the first week with the kids back at school and it turns into a stomach and flu ward. There were three of us in Combat, fighting for space, it was fun though. Came back and had to work until very late to make up for my breaks. Jamie staggered in and announced he’d had four pints. and that he actually liked ‘Thatchers’. Five minutes later he was standing completely naked above the toilet throwing up violently. After ten minutes he was sat on it head in hand. Where he remained for the best part of two hours. He then made it on to the bed and fell asleep. That’s about the first time he’s ever gone to bed and not been connected to headphones. I took the mop upstairs and then spent the next half-hour cleaning the diced carrot collective off my Brabantia loo brush. And where the fuck did all that white rice come from? I have a feeling he may not be so keen on ‘Thatchers’ tomorrow. Four pints, tut, lightweight. He’s fine now, I can hear the snoring down here.