When we were at college in Loughborough the Meadow Lane route to town often flooded. This resulted in an annoying amount of traffic on the Nottingham Road bottleneck. One day after particularly heavy flooding and not caring for my own welfare, the old red Peugeot or that of my 4 passengers I declared "fuck this queue" and shot off the meadow lane way. It was about 18" deep but keeping my foot planted in first we created quite an impressive bow wave. This worked very well for us, less so the poor sod we over took midflood in his Ford Escort, last seen going utterly utterly ape shit in my rear view mirror, who was trundling through with his windows down. I imagine 20 years on his car is still not fully dry.
I have never been busier at work. Not sure acceleration rather than winding down the amount you work is a good idea but got to pay for the new house. So average day is 530am until 8pm for six days a week.
Sunday is my day off. So football followed by the wife expecting me to leaf blow (turbo mode muthafuckers!), push mow and power wash the house on a 30 foot ladder.
Oddly I found all of this fun. I am pretty sure I really don’t know how to relax anymore.
That's because you are daft. The leaves are blown onto the road off the grass, (we are responsible for the corner of the street as well as the front garden), swept up in piles and then picked up.
I like having a front and back garden. I like having the corner house, just the extra work because of it's location is a bit odd as we are responsible for it even though it technically isn't ours.
In the UK, "torrid" is always a negative thing. Having a torrid time means you're really not enjoying yourself one bit. But over here it's used to describe something great; a player having a torrid start to the season is on fire, there's even a ladies clothing chain called Torrid.