The, um, opposite of purgatory

Heaven: Soaking in a hot bubbley bath, having spent the afternoon sorting the 'office', doing 9 months-worth of filing, and pulling everything together to send to the accountant (in the vain hope of getting some money back from the Evil Incarnate that is the ATO...), experiencing that thrill of pleasure that only a clear desk can bring...

Thoughtfully eating a Home Ice Cream choc-mint cone (quickly before it melts in the steam) idly ruminating on the place of the shoemaker in radical political history...

Retiring to the lounge, warm and tingly fresh from the bath, snuggled in a blanket, snoring cat at my feet, to bask in the radiance that is Helen Mirren as Elizabeth. (Although I admit to flicking during torture and/or execution scenes)

And it's still bloody raining. Wollongong's going to float away soon...