Thank bloody god for Fridays

I wonder whether stumbling forth into the open after work on a Friday will ever feel anything other than a release. Admittedly, there are professions that I could genuinely see myself enjoying - running a tropical nursery, travel writing, botany and forest research - but that is not my present, and where I stand now, the passion just isn't great enough for me to want to be there, day in, day out.

Well, a year and a half to go, roughly; it has been great, and very interesting, but next time I undertake a Ph.D., it will have to be rather less molecular, and rather more substantial. I was offered the perfect job recently, in Sri Lanka, but it won't be mine because this is something I am determined to finish.

It's 0840, and I've just showered. I'm ensconced in a dressing gown and somewhere on the way to getting ready to head into London with Phil. We've a dinner party to head to at QUOD's Red Room, Haymarket, come the evening, followed possibly by pyrotechnics at the Jubilee Gardens, lunch with my bestest gal (mum) and my favourite gay 'uncles' in the mid-afternoon, and somewhere before that I was hoping to head into Camden market to rummage. So I'm on the way to being tardy, but I'm not going to rush; there was enough of that during the week. Here's to a gentle weekend.