How do I describe today? Believe it or not, I'm finding that difficult. Okay, it's Friday, so thank God for that (or not, depending on religious beliefs or recent events in your life), but that doesn't do justice to the sort of wishy-washy lazy don't know what I want to be kind of day.

I mean, it's cloudy, right? Soft focus grey blankets of cloud obscure the sky, but it isn't raining, and far from it, because I see the sun shining. How is that possible? How is this Friday able to destroy my fondly held preconceptions of what weather is supposed to be like?

We Apologise

We have decided that the doubt no longer applies

What the Department of Work & Pensions mean by that statement is that they were wrong to accuse me of not accepting an opportunity to return to the workplace, they're very sorry, and here's a tiny pay rise for your trouble. Makes you feel good to be alive, doesn't it?

Others Share My Mood

On the way down to the library I have to negotiate a crossing on a busy road junction. The crossing is in two halves to avoid traffic moving in two different directions. Not such a hazard you might think, with modern technological wonders like traffic lights, but then I know from experience that drivers sometimes do odd unexpected things on that junction.

Like today. A young lady waited for the lights to change. When the signal showed a green pedestrian, she set out across the road, head buried in the all important mobile phone. An approaching 4x4 either didn't see the lights change or wanted to chance a bit of 'amber gambling', a very British pastime.

It slammed on the brakes when the lady stepped forward. She carried on unaware of the danger she was in. Meanwhile, the cars windscreen bulged around the drivers nose. See what I mean about today?

Okay, Maybe You Don't

I'll try again. Earlier today I had to pop down to the supermarket. The woman in front of me at the till had deposited a mountain of provisions for her army of little hoodlums on the black rubber conveyor, and quite forgot that half of it was stacked on the brushed aluminium casing that housed it.

Eventually she realised I wasn't quite as gallant as some women believe us chivalrous types like to be. With a very false sounding suprise, she made an apology and swept everything on with a sweep of her arm. No, I'm not helping her pack either, however much she struggles with the practicality of it.

Come on, lady, the bag opens the other end. No, it's all right, she's found it.

Shall I try Again?

Nah. It's the afternoon, I'm pooped after a long day on job searching and three hours of voluntary work at the museum (It's a tough day spent avoiding skeletal T-Rex's). If you haven't gathered what a lazy day this Friday is, I can't be bothered to explain.