Going to see Augie March tonight. Which, considering I'm about as sick as I can get without my head exploding from mucus, is probably not a very good idea. Going anyway, fuck it. I want the music.

When John was down on Monday, he took a break from his hectic schedule of shopping (caveat venditor, when John's in town) to try and recruit me. He wasn't very serious about it, which is just as well, because I don't think things like that are supposed to happen over banana pancakes. Martinis, yes. Black coffee, definitely. (Then again, I don't think they'd let him into MI6 with hair that long and a dragon curled around his little finger.)

Anyway, I mentioned it to Afny, who said he thought ASIO would be more my thing. I didn't say that I didn't want to tred on Jen's toes, though I probably should have. Instead, I pointed out that there were a whole raft of reasons why I didn't go into DFAT in the first place, having quite a bit to do with looking around my Honours group and realising I would be spending the rest of my life with people like this, but mostly having to do with my distaste for the idea of taking variables, feeding them through formula policy, and providing unambitious briefs. For a living. Forever.

I like my diplomacy conducted with a fan and a careful choice of adverb. I was so born in the wrong era. But failing time travel, writing fantasy fiction will have to suffice.