Forces of Chaos: The Roadshow

The newspaper on the seat opposite opens on a picture of the Ladbroke Grove crash and as my train ambles through North London, we pause opposite a stark red and white sign which commands PREPARE TO MEET THY GOD.

This seems as good a time as any to declare myself On Holiday.

I've spent the past few weeks in sustained conflict with the Forces of Chaos (their capitals}. This is an unholy alliance of dirt, dust, disordered paperwork and Work Stuff which threatened to unhinge me. Everywhere I turn there's a mess and I could either spend my week sorting it all out or I could get out and chill out. So I'm heading over to Mr Fusion's place for a few days.

I've already spent Monday getting tipsy with my colleagues, Tuesday horribly lost in the dark in the Buckingham countryside and Paddington Station has become the scene of Flashmob: The Opera. I'm starting to suspect Chaos is a state of mind.