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Wow. How does time fly by so quickly? Greece is already a distant memory, as is Monday, when I went in to work. What a week - but how can I say that when I seem to have done so little? I've got a list of things to do: six things to write of which I've written one (my review of “Spike Milligan’s Adolf Hitler: My Part in his Downfall”), probably four test books to read, four packages to take to the post office to mail, and let's not even get started on undoing the sty that is my house. I mean, yeah, sure, I've seen three plays and spend tonight singing songs at a tavern in Vauxhall, and spent two nights ago drinking white wine and snacking with Josh, but otherwise ... where has the time gone?

That said, I think tomorrow, instead of going to Pilates, I will stay home and clean until I feel good about (at least) how the living room looks, and actually get the rest of the play reviews written (two more) before the shows in question close. Then I'll head up north for a party, and Saturday I'm off to see a castle with robot_mel and our respective dudes. What do you bet Monday will be here before I know it?

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