I'm staring at the first year essays and not getting very far with marking them. I thought I'd make more headway by keeping away from distractions, but—in best Lloyd Bridges style—I picked a bad day to stay at home. The rental house next door is being renovated. Cue hammer and drill. And council workers are digging up the pavement fifty metres along. Cue reversing trucks and concrete saw.
This morning I had breakfast at my favourite café, Gravy Train, on Gamon Street in Seddon. After a couple of flat whites and a smoked trout omelette, I felt much better. Then I heard that the owners have sold up. Zut alors! The staff are staying, though, which allayed my fears slightly. The news could have been worse. They might have sold Hausfrau, their bakery on Ballarat Street in Yarraville, as well.
I'd better get back to these essays. They're not going to mark themselves. Which is odd because some of them seem to have written themselves without human intervention.
