raven: [hello my name is] and a silhouette image of a raven (sweetness)
[personal profile] raven
They were little angels. I'm serious. They were asleep when I got there, and they were asleep when I left, with nothing in between. Not a word/cough/sniffle out of either of them. And I like kids when they're asleep. Parents were all panicky, got home by ten fifteen, frightened something had happened, but nothing did. And they paid me £10 when I would have worked for free, and besides, I didn't work. I did absolutely nothing.

No, not nothing. I read the newspaper, made some notes for those New Deal questions, even started learning it. I texted [livejournal.com profile] chanandlerbong, who is going to Cardiff tomorrow, and then I flicked on the television, heard the opening notes of Danse Macabre, and suddenly started feeling very happy. I'm sure that wasn't the effect Saint-Saens was going for with that piece, not with Death and his violin and all, but no, it meant I got to watch Jonathan Creek tonight. I love the show. There's alwaysa grisly murder, and a surreal subplot. The subplot tonight involved an old lady, choked by a crustacean on a date with Adam Klaus, followed by a streaker at the magic show, who is so successful they sign him so he'll do it every night, and then Jonathan gets pissed off and throws him out, so he streaks at the old lady's funeral. Oddly, there were no conviently placed chairs/lampshades/planks when the guy was streaking. Ewww. And the main mystery was good too.

And now I'm home. Productive night, all told.
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