{ I read a poem that was so good but I can't find it and now I'm worried that it was a dream. }

I came home on Friday to find cake on the table, and I was like, Mother, what the hell with this cake? It's not that I am not into cake, it's just that it was majorly unexpected and I was going to make brownies this weekend, but now that's redundant. And The Mother was all, The Dad was going to sell it off, and I told him we could have it! And The Dad said, oh, M will eat it! And I said, but I haven't eaten it and it's already a quarter gone. And The Mother said, The Dad must have eaten it.

Basically we have to give him excuses to enjoy things.

Anyway, ten minutes ago The Dad is all, M, do you want cake? And I'm all, no, thanks, maybe later, and The Dad was all, OH. BUT THE CAKE IS FOR YOU. And I was all, JESUS DAD I'M NOT REJECTING YOUR HUNTER-GATHERER INSTINCTS I'LL EAT THE CAKE LATER.

My house is so full of drama I can't even.

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This weekend and last our floor has been undergoing a furniture refit. They're taking out our desks and replacing them with smaller ones, and some of us are moving to new seats, blah, blah, NO WORK GOT DONE YESTERDAY. There was a cake stall and then a network outage and then rain and then we left the office at three and went to the pub. Should have left at three last week, too, but I was building stuff, and it wasn't our side of the floor that was being worked on, so we eventually left at four thirty. By four thirty yesterday I'd already had a drink, some conversation (one very long one about chickens; my Polish lady co-worker is SO LOVELY you guys), and was on a train home. Good times.

Work on the whole has been weird. It was all BE BUSY GET THINGS DONE YESTERDAY PUT OUT THAT FIRE and then suddenly...zzzzzzzzzzzzip. Nothing to do. So I'm getting back to my "background" project: writing Ops instructions. Jesus, what a bore.

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Last Friday I stayed back for drinks and then went to see The Ladykillers which was hilarious and fucking delightful. The set was amazing, and the cast had great chemistry. Peter Capaldi was fabulous. I wish it were still on because I would take all of you. SO GOOD.

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Pro-tip: don't watch The Deep Blue Sea. It's a brilliant cast, but a) it's depressing as fuck, b) it's filmed in this soft focus which just adds weight to everything, and c) it suffers the exact same problem as Closer: you can tell it's a play. Rattigan is brilliant, as is the play script for The Deep Blue Sea; I'm going to see The Browning Version in a month or so. I have no qualms with him or the play. But it was poorly adapted. I liked the flashbacks as a mode of storytelling because they were especially effective, and the transitions were seamless. But neither Hester nor Freddie are sympathetic, and Mr. Miller is completely minimised in the film. It makes for a much better play than a film.

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( The following wall of text is a paragraph of everything I've watched and found lacklustre this past fortnight. Whilst we're here, let's take a moment to comment on the new cut-tag design which, jesus, GO AWAY. )

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Scott and Bailey continues to be terrifically entertaining stuff. I've always been partial to Gill, and her scenes this week were especially gratifying. Can't believe there's only two more episodes left. Going to be gutted when it's over.

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I'm reading Jeffrey Eugenides' The Marriage Plot which, as I have said to a few people already, is different in tone to his previous works, and as of yet not as compelling, but I haven't been able to put it aside, which is saying something. It's incredibly meta, and feels both true and somewhat uncomfortable (in that I can relate to the general experience of the lit student, if not the specific). Looking forward to seeing where it leads me.

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And then I forgot to complete my post before hitting save.