I am well tired.

I lay in bed last night after a 12 hour shift with two taxing functions couching my day:

1) Breakfast with member of the Treasury.

2) Private view of homeless people's art.

As my eyelids drooped closed, I tried to ignore the persistent metronome-like drip in the engine room. However, being the type of girl who is naturally para as fuck, this was in no way possible. I pulled on Turtle's wolf coat, some boots and summoned my husband. We clambered along the gunnels in the rain and used our mobile phones to verify the fact that yes, the engine room was in fact 3 inches deep in standing water.

We needs us a bilge pump and we needs it fast.

Here I sit at my desk, doing seating plans and imagining my vintage dress collection at the bottom of the Grand Union Canal.

Posh job + boat dwelling = Well tired & sketchy.