I'm in a hotel room in Aberdeen. I felt all nostalgic and full of love for (Nottingham) home when I first arrived as the bathroom has a claw footed bath. Though one that is infinitely smarter than the claw foot we have at home.

And I'd already been dwelling on cosy home thoughts as Easter is looming and for teenage me, Easter was all about the smell of paint as my father went DIY wild, snatched morsels of easter egg (me, not my father) and Champion the Wonder Horse on children's television. I love Easter as a consequence.

But I've just had such a comic battle to get on to the internet to email a document I patiently wrote on the train on the way up here trying to be efficient and then almost but not quite almost wept when I couldn't connect to anything like the internet after intervals of trying from 3pm this afternoon through to 8pm with two research groups in between to the point that the hotel have given me their laptop to connect to the bloody wifi which my computer, unvirus riddled now refuses to do, that most of my nostalgia has withered in my hunger for a little glass of white wine. (Long sentence to show frustration!!)

Still, here now, email sent, twitter twut so soothed, I can turn my attention to the shamelessly frivolous and the Apprentice.