Department of the old ones are the best: having nearly filled my digibox recorder with old episodes of Frasier (must switch off the series record now I think I've looped round to the beginning again), yesterday I reached the one in which Frasier finds himself backing a candidate for Congress who confesses to having been abducted by aliens. Splendid as ever.
My office is in a converted hospital building, and my particular office is in a converted hospital ward, which dates to 1770 and has graffiti from 1776 on a windowpane to prove it. It is rather nice as a result, with a high ceiling and big windows. It is also rather noisy when windy, with lots of wuthering going on – cue my colleague saying “And when you weren’t in on Monday and it was really windy it was very spooky, and I suddenly remembered that this was a hospital and people must have died in this room”. I suppose it puts a different perspective on annoying emails.
It is the 21st March tomorrow. Alas, it will definitely not be spring.