The Suicide Tour, Day 3

NB - I wrote this last night, and thought I'd posted it, but obviously I didn't, so you'll have to read it now, and pretend it's last night... RC 15-2-20 

I don’t want to talk about it.

I’m sorry, but I simply don’t want to talk about it. It was painful, pathetic and ultimately pointless.

But it’s done now. I can forget about it. Until Monday, when I’ll be expected to write a 1000-word appraisal of it and highlight new techniques I might have learnt that will somehow revolutionise my style of management and somehow justify the job of whoever forced this shit upon us.

Anyway – onto happier topics. I have a bottle of red wine open, I am alone in the house, and I am about to watch ‘This Is Spinal Tap’ for at least the 14^th time. If Philippa and Mathew aren’t home when it finishes, I shall bash the Hell out of my drums in a drunken Mick Shrimpton style (but hopefully without exploding).