The first normie Saturday of 2026.

The first normie Saturday of 2026. And the last for a while.

I did not open the laptop. I opened the other laptop. There's a difference and the difference is who paid for it.

The plan was a normal Saturday. I started it by checking the committee stage of the Cyber Security and Resilience Bill, because that's where normal people keep their weekends now. It's in the Lords. Ofcom has data centres. I felt nothing, in detail.

Then I relaxed by running an RFP for an amplifier.

I didn't buy one. I evaluated four. I built a shortlist, a rig diagram, and a business case for why I didn't need the thing at the top of the shortlist, then a second business case for why I did. I was told the pedal I already own does the sound but not the feel. Thirty years in architecture. Nobody has ever asked me about feel. Nobody has ever asked me about anything you couldn't put in a heatmap.

By eleven I'd moved the wet amp to the dry side and back twice, which is a sentence that means something to me and to nobody I share a kitchen with.

To wind down from the amplifier I commissioned two forty-page documents on music theory, every chord machine-verified, because if I'm going to relax I want it audited. Then I suggested we write a book. I have two books already. Only one is out. That's not a blocker, that's a pipeline.

I didn't go to the shop. The shop was seventy miles away and open in a tab. Same thing. Lower carbon.

What it felt like: exactly like a Tuesday, with far worse justification and insanely better fonts.

It's the last one for a while. I'm not saying why. It's not an incident. It's the good kind of on-call.

If you get one this weekend: don't open the laptop. Or do, but only for the Fender. Never the Bill.

Posture unchanged. Amp unpurchased. Book pending. Feel: unknown.