Not exactly startling discovery of the day - I much prefer numbers to words. Reams and reams of words.*

Oh, and "looking" after children who don't belong to me is even more fun.

Now I'm catching up on Masterchef while studiously ignoring the weird sensation following a rather loud pop from my hip. At the time I wasn't even sure which one popped but it's definitely the fake one that feels well weird.

Right off to channel my descending modulators inhibition and possibly even fix some food.

Vx

*Obviously I only mean in a work scenario. I love reading.