Where do the afternoons go?

The title of this blog is misleading: i know exactly where my afternoons go.  As a teacher I’ve had the luxury of two weeks off, which after a term of Ofsted and various other pressures, my first thought on having two weeks off is ‘ where is the nearest bed?’  I couldn’t get beyond the idea of sweet sweet slumber.  Once sated, my next thought is, ‘ is there a Law and Order on?’

 

And, dear Reader, of course there is.  I warrant that there is always an episode of Law and Order on somewhere in the universe: SVU, Criminal Intent or a any one of a rich back catalogue of the NYC standard, where MCCoy battles it out and never gives in on a variety of cases.  I love it because it fools my brain into thinking that I am, in a way, exercising it.  But this is the equivalent of putting a dog on a running machine; this isn’t challenging brain to follow and solve a series of hermeneutics, its an hour of pretending I live in New York and watching Cutter, Briscoe, Lupo – thugh never Bernard – eat Chinese food from boxes (which if you live outside the US, looks like the most fun ever, by the way).

There’s time for one more, a final hurrah before I head back to the drudgery of work.  If I sign off, I’ll have time to ance around the living room to the theme tune – how many ways can one programme please me?

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