I was trying to edit chapter 4 of 'Standing on the Edge' but Liam's at home pretending to be poorly and he's listening to "You're a bad man, Mr. Gum" on audio book and I keep getting sucked into that instead. The narration is really funny, but I'm glad I'm not reading it to him myself - some of the names in it are ridiculous. He's completely hooked and it's keeping him amused and quiet anyway so I can get on with stuff, but I've had to give up the stuff I was editing until it's finished; so it's only half a win.
I got a parking ticket at work on Saturday, the first one for years but that little yellow and black packet obscuring my view through the windscreen still has the same power to instill dread that it's always had. I was all grrr about it on the way home, because it's not my fault my shifts last longer than 4 hours and it's not my fault they don't have enough spaces in the staff car park for it to be worth me buying a permit and why do we even have to pay for parking to go to work anyway? Isn't it just enough that I'm there? Aren't they supposed to pay me? But then I reasoned out that I've been parking for free for the past 2 years and it had to be about time for my luck to run out, and better a £25 parking ticket than a £50 fine from the police and so maybe I should just take this on the chin and move on. . .
Now back to "You're a bad man, Mr. Gum."'Standing on the Edge'. Maybe I'll get another three or four sentences done before lunch time.