I'm overage!

Or something. A bit out of date, but via the terrific Marianne Levy, the concept of Real Age. Mine is within a year of my actual age (or what, up until now, I was just calling my 'age' - how foolish I was back then). I have absolutely no idea what this means, except that it was a fun way to pass an idle few minutes.

I sometimes wonder, if I stayed at home on Mondays and just frittered the day away, if Tuesdays at work would then actually turn out to be productive. I suspect they actually would - against all common sense. There's something about the water on Mondays.