This morning, I was cycling into work when I noticed a TINY BABY BIRD outside the office.

His name was Toby, I decided, and he had probably fallen from a nest. I was immediately overcome with fear and panic- even more so than usual. I could just ignore Toby and go on to work, walking past him like a callous monster. I could take him with me into the office and nurture him, but I am unsure how tolerant my employers would have been re. 'Crazy Katie takes a baby bird called Toby into the office, builds a nest in a filing cabinet, and refuses to let him go until he can fly'.
In the end I went for a more cowardly solution and let our facilities manager know, asking if he could move Toby off the path. Luckily, he did not think I was just being a massive hormonal wreck, and did so. I had enough of a rural upbringing to know that realistically, Toby may already be in the Great Nest in the Sky, but at least he has a CHANCE now, and maybe he'll live and will grow into a massive raven that will reward me at some timely point in the future (by funding my study of dialectology, or something, I dunno).
I was worried by how emotionally involved I became in Operation: Rescue Toby. The situation wasn't helped by the fact that my hayfever flared up (after a near-total absence of 8 years!) on the commute to work, so for much of the morning, I looked like I'd been in floods of tears, and suffered the humiliation of having strangers ask if I was OK several times.
The only other news I have to report is of THE PUB OF DEATH AND WOE, which broke its own record on Tuesday night and played loud music till 2am, meaning that when I got in last night, I was so tired that I tried to make dinner, realised that my exhaustion meant I wasn't even safe to cook, and had a nap until 9.30pm, upon which I woke up very confused (I hardly ever take naps because they scare me). I made another complaint to the council, who again, were really good and got back to me straightaway. The thing is, they now want me to ring the police if this happens again. Fair enough, but the plan is to have the police come into MY flat to assess the extent to which the noise is bothering me. Rather than just going to the pub, which is the one making the noise, and asking them to shut up as it's fairly obvious that that level of noise will disturb somebody living in a flat directly opposite. It's good that the council are so on the ball, but I'd rather not have to have the police in my house at 2 in the morning. It's more disruptive, and I'd fret about talking to the police while I'm a) in a terrible, sleep-deprived mood and b) in my pyjamas. 
Anyway. NO SWEDISH CLASS TODAY which means double Swedish classes next week AND the week after. I am going to be very tired.