It's been one of those days at work, where I switched on my computer in the morning and then looked at the clock and realised that it was nearly home time. I seem to have done a lot without achieving a great deal. Hmmm.
An enjoyable slice of 80s nostalgia on the telly last night with 'Worried About The Boy' - a biopic of the life of Boy George up to the point that he first appeared on Top of the Pops. They captured the look of the times perfectly, but I still don't know how George managed to do his hair and makeup so perfectly whilst living in a squalid squat with holes in the walls. The obligatory disclaimer at the start of the programme warned of scenes of a sexual nature, but it was all rather chaste and sweet as far as I could see, with nothing more than a bit of hand holding and the occasional fumble. Certainly nothing to frighten the horses by any stretch of the imagination.
The really scary thing is that it is now thirty years since the start of the 80s and that they are as distant as the 1950s were to me at the time.
Tempus fugit indeed.