In order of unpleasantness, there is revision, housework, blogging and messing about. While revising, housework is definitely allowed, blogging within reason but no messing about. When revision is over, messing about takes up a lot of time, blogging is neglected and housework doesn't stand a chance.
The last exam took place in a large echoing sports hall packed to the rafters with students on the main campus of the university. It demanded more than the usual amount of focus and concentration from me because of all the other people there, the unfamiliar environment and noises and distractions. But I think I did OK, then drove home, we went out to dinner, and I couldn't stop smiling with the relief of not having to revise any more. Since then I've been messing about all over the place: getting my hair cut, cooking, and most importantly, packing for a few days in London and then a week in Bruges.
I came down to London yesterday and met up with an old friend and ex-work colleague. It was lovely to see him, and there's always a good story to hear: this time about how a tree he was cutting down ended up falling on top of him. There was some current news and updates on people I used to work with, and a little reminiscing, like the time we had a team Christmas meal out, when life was good and our jobs were fulfilling and satisfying. That was the best team ever, but people change and move on and we can't expect such good times to last forever. So then we talked about drugs for cholesterol and the Big Bang and global warming and bowel movements, the sort of thing any friends might talk about. I love meeting up, and I even found out that he reads this blog. I'm sorry I forgot to take a photo, but I was having too much fun.
It didn't take much thinking for me to decide on eating at my regular Japanese outlet before moving on to the pub quiz where Mr M is a regular. My contribution (Utah, Stephen King, Nicholas Witchell, ELO and Rock Aria) was enough to take us to first place and the prize of a round of drinks, but by that time I was ready to go back to Lola II's house and sleep. I remember the same thing happened when we did a regular quiz at home - the only time we ever won was when a 'ringer' joined the team who hadn't played before (and never joined us again).
So now on to today, which started with a list of jobs for me to do while Lola II went to work, involving planning transport options to meet our American cousin and her son and her friend at Heathrow, and trying to work out what Oyster card rules apply to a 5-year-old. Then I met Lola II and Mr M at Westfield Shopping Centre (more like a town to a rural bumpkin like me), where we had lunch and then Lola II and I shopped for hours.
As usual, I failed to find any of the things I really wanted - a mac or raincoat and sandals - and bought socks and underwear instead. It was really hot, and Lola II flaked out while I had one last shot at looking for sandals, and then we came home by bus and it was still really hot, and we still have much to do. We must shop for household food, and I still have to buy euros for the trip to Belgium, and we need to order the Chinese food for Sunday when we are having a family get together in honour of our visiting US cousin. But now it is supper time, and Lola II is dishing up the pasta, and I must publish this.