On the way into work, as in betwen the car and the office, I managed to sort out the gathering of some missing data from my mortgage company. On the way from the office to tonight's entertainments in Southampton (an Oscar Wilde play - ooooh!) I managed to sort out car insurance, ring round various places looking for things and speak to friends and work colleagues.
The previous day's Car Taxing fiasco was also resolved. I went to the Post Office yesterday to get my road tax, only to discover, while in the queue, that my MOT certificate, posted from the garage where my untaxed car is sitting off the road not hurting anyone, was for the wrong vehicle. I responded to this situation by not buying the road tax and, instead, posting the MOT back to the garage so they could give it to the right person. Buying the Road Tax online that night, I then, effectively, got myself legalled up.
The final piece of the jigsaw was when I contact the garage on the way home (having had a couple of calls from them thanking me for returning the MOT certificate) to arrange that they drop the car off at where it's going to live. Indeed, I insured someone to drive it, so it will be a working car very soon. I like that my car will get to be driven around again. I liked my car. It was a good friend.
Tonight's play was worth travelling to go and see, and it was followed by a group session in a curry house. That's a group session of eating, rather than anything naughty. Naughty reader! How DARE you!?
After the curry I retired to a friend's house for script reading-age and then again and then home before I turned into a pumpkin.
I think it's too late. The large squash-like shape of my body tells me it's way too late.