Saturday morning, well, afternoon if you want to take it literally. A satisfying late sleep and a breakfast of bacon and eggs smothered in brown sauce brings me to my senses. It's a fine day outside, for once the good people at the weather service got it right - t-shirt weather is not far off.

I need to go and do some shopping, for cables and a new headset. The cables are for my speakers and the headset, well, so that I can indulge in VoIP conversations to South Africa, undermining Telkom's attempt at regulating and having ownership of of any bandwidth used to transport VoIP data. It's such a fine day I'm not sure I could be bothered. I opened the skylight, in summer it acts as a pressure valve - this being the loft aparment means that we take all the heat. I'm considering constructing an alter on the roof where we can bring sacrificial offerings of dead animals to rooftop BBQ festivities. Last summer we bought a case of diposable BBQs, they do the job well enough and they rather suit the urban rooftop outdoor experience. Jonathan has given us his garden furniture, which will of course find its way to the roof. We'll have to chain the furniture down and make sure locals aren't killed by falling plastic chairs. I have a burning desire to hurl things off the roof, big things like the TV, or the oven. We have more or less convinced ourselves that trying to drive golf balls from the rooftop into the opposing commons is not at all perilous for anyone, and should in fact be considered an essencial summer night activity.