Listening to a new 'Charles Parris' mystery on R4. I really must get around to marrying Bill Nighy some day. (We nearly collided in Forbidden Planet, once, and 'excused-me'd each other, so we've already 'met cute'...)
R Next Door, having started out 'crying with joy' that thanks to me and Mr IT, she's getting freeWi-Fi in her flat, is now mumbling that it's 'not consistent' as she wanders around. Well, it's not my fucking problem, OK? Grunt.