Appointments for important industry audits keep appearing on the calendar, which have been managing to keep me fairly occupied of late. The accountants are also due to descend on the office for their annual audit early next month, and bearing in mind an extended Bank Holiday, there will be little chance of getting much genuine work done until sometime in mid-June.
Parental responsibilities are also becoming a greater factor these days. Old Father Monoid giving up his car and deciding to become housebound certainly has an effect, and my mother is still suffering from difficulties related to her fall in January.
Weekends have seen me reluctantly press-ganged into establishing the infrastructure of Ms Monoid's latest craze, her allotment. Collecting and transporting greenhouses, erecting sheds and other manly tasks have all been delegated to me.
Not that I deny her another hobby, of course. However, the financial outlay has spiralled well beyond her ability to control, and the question of time-management remains noticably unresolved. (In other words, time frittered away growing produce which will take decades to recoup its cost, versus time spent helping me out with the housework).
Which all sounds very bitter and twisted of me, I know. Maybe I am a bad person, but I'm a bad person with his hand permanently in his pocket paying for somebody else's obsession while all the things I love doing are put on indefinate hold.
Meanwhile, I am planning my next fraudulent Cambridge trip (which this time just so happens to coincide with the Motorhead tour in November), and trying to get back to London before the calendar fills up or the money runs out.
Again.
