When you just want to go home, pour yourself a big drink and pass out with something completely inane playing on the telly. But then again, I had the entire weekend to prep for a bad week - you know the time when you see a big painted Tata truck driving on the wrong side of the road screaming towards you, but you still don't take evasive action, because this is India after all. But then again, my day could not have possibly been a tenth as bad as Ricky Ponting's. I'm actually thinking of running off to catch a few days of the Test in Delhi next week, though the city's smoggy overhang, particularly after Diwali will make for interesting air quality to say the least and I wouldn't want to hang around a place not protected by air filters, i.e: the open.
OK, now to get home.