For reasons I am unable to divulge, owing to procedural issues, this was the kind of working week that would at one time have qualified for a ‘stupendous quantities of alcohol’ conclusion. Immediate commencement of steady drinking for three days on arrival at home kind of scenario.

In fact, it would have been continuation of drinking, because I don’t think I would have made it past Wednesday.

That didn’t happen, and genuinely I wasn’t even thinking about it that much, really. Sort of crossed my mind as I drove home this evening, but only as a passing thought about what wasn’t happening.

Just kind of tired, really. I’m preoccupied with macrocosms! Aghast at the similarities between the professional situation in my workplace and the way in which the UK is thrashing its way through “Brexit”, like a disgruntled simile unable to find a sentence to join.

There is probably an elaborate “piss-up in a brewery” organisational incapability analogy to be worked up about all this, but I lack the energy and inclination to undertake that. I’ll just leave the notion here.