because, you know, not being mown down by cars is pretty high on my Things To Do list.
very tired. Washing machine decided to go BEEPbeepBEEPBEEPbeep at 12:30am, and started flashing F:18 at me.
Reasoning that it was some kind of error code rather than an attempt to communicate a long-held wish to become a US fighter aircraft, it prompted a search for the instruction booklet.
Which I'd handily not filed anywhere remotely useful.
Luckily I have TEH INTERWEB and this morning successfully worked out that F:18 translates to "LB left a hair clip in her pocket, and I et it. Please to be removing it from my drain, kthxbye"
Books of 2009: Un Lun Dun. Dear lord, that was fabulous. More. I want more.