It's finally over.
I closed another chapter today, and am 4000 words nearer to that elusive AAT qualification. I hope the job market will be supportive when I finally arrive. Either way, the wine-and-adrenaline kick I've been riding since Monday has finally washed itself out and now the heavy cold and the exhaustion can fight it out with the copious amounts of lemsip coursing through my system in order to see which of them is in charge of the Friday ship.
Incidentally, the City College have earned themselves an honourary mention on my blog for the extremely poor standard of IT in their business premises. I love the way they can make a massive fuss at me for wearing jeans, but on deadline day it's okay that it takes the better part of an hour to find a working printer. Seriously guys, get your priorities in order. It's a bit early in the piece for this blog to start a 'Turkey of the Month' award but I'm seriously tempted, and let's face it, this blog is evidence that I already have too much time on my hands, so best not to push me.
So I'm doing my best to write some content that appeals to all my readership (and let's face it, so far I have a regular readership of 2, and they're only reading to make sure I'm not saying something rude about them.) One comment I had suggested that the blog could be livened up by resorting to man's lowest common denominator, which for the benefit of all the ladies in the house, is sport. So I have bowed to peer pressure and am unenthusiastically trying to find something to say about the state of English cricket.
At the best of times, writing about cricket is best left to the experts, like Haigh, Martin-Jenkins, Boycott, Atherton and Agnew. It gets ever tougher for me to have informed opinions, given that I am no longer in possession of a working Sky box and my enthusiasm for the game has been crushed under the weight of the 20-over plankfest that now passes for a one-day game. There were green shoots in the recent test series as England came close to snatching an entirely undeserved series victory in South Africa, but even as a fan, it's comforting in the end to note that the right result came about.
Paul Collingwood has been one of the rare positives in a poor series for England, and one in which the tail has frequently outperformed the openers with the bat. Collingwood has been an object of derision in the press for a bewilderingly long time now, despite his traditional English qualities of grit and delivering substance over style. He is also accused of negative play, but anyone who saw his joyful six over the head of Dale Steyn at the Wanderers when the game was already well out of England's reach, will surely know better.
Likewise, I am not about to jump on the 'Drop Pietersen' bandwagon. The batsman has had a poor series, but he is one of several. Stuart Broad, for example, would do well to button his lip and do his talking with the ball occasionally. Pietersen is the one player that offers something that no-one else does, and when he is at his best, he is a colossus, pure and simple. As a bowler, how do you plan an over when you know that whatever you do, you're going to be creamed? The anti-Pietersen brigade may do well to ponder his Ashes-saving 158 at the Oval in 2005 and wonder why we in England are so afraid of genius.