Bury my heart at Leicester Square tube station

Once in a while M&I get our "doing heads" on, Worzel Gummidge style, and go on a getting-things-done-around-the-house blitz. Such was the case on Wednesday (day off work) and Saturday, which we spent in a productive whirl of hardware shops, allen keys and storage solutions.

It was very satisfying, but the lack of fun time was probably a contributing factor to my current funk of homesickness. My dad being unwell is the main contributor here, together with Nick's departure for the motherland, English cricket's perpetual ability to inflict mental disintegration on its followers and a general sense of boredom with work.

It's a funny thing, but even after having lived in Sydney for 8 years, and having lived in London for about 4 years back in my 20s, my heart is still very much over there. If you could plot a graphic of the most significant places in my own personal psychogeography, I reckon the epicentre would be on Charing Cross Road, somewhere between Trafalgar Square and Fopp.