February 05, 2007

I am having a go at rewriting the end of Match Play tonight. I had a kind of idea which I thought might be good earlier today. It was while I was drinking my fifth coffee of the morning, so I suspect it might be one of my many caffeine induced delusions. I scribbled it on the back of some notes that I had for the class I was treaching at the uni today, but the handwriting looks decidedly shaky and seems to tail off at one point into a sort of staccato rant about a need for more Columbian expressos. I will try and decipher it after this.
At my uni class tooday I had the best ever excuse for non-attendence. One of the class had left a message for me to say that the concierge of his apartment had asked him to return to the flat right away.
Yes. A student with a concierge. What is going on? I felt that I was in an episode of "Jeeves Goes to University". In my day we had grubby landlords with a Rigsbyesque leer.
Whatever will be next? "I'm having the Ferrari serviced today." "I'm sorry I'm late but the butler was slow in ironing the newspaper this morning." "Please excuse Samantha's non-attendance but the private jet was diverted."