now it's half past three

I decided today that I should like to keep chickens. 'I think I'll get chickens; yes, chickens would be good and would eat all the slugs and I wonder if I could get one of those foxproof Eglu things' I thought. I even began to imagine a couple of gingery girls pecking contentedly in my back garden. Fantasies such as these carry me through my lunch hour and help balance out the thoughts which go: 'I hate this job and want to work somewhere else and I am going to actually strangle Lance Wyatt if he doesn't stop arguing with every bloody thing I say every bloody minute of the day.'

There are nine working days to go until the end of term. I am going to have to think about chickens a great deal.