Yesterday morning, on a day just like any other (to no doubt quote a film trailer somewhere), breakfast was unaffectedly joyous. Nothing special happened, mainly because nothing happened at all. The morning brought one of life's simple pleasures - a relaxing breakfast. Nothing more. The menu choices; a chocolate spread sandwich, a pint of tea, a copy of the Word and Neil Young's "Harvest" on the stereo. Again, not much in the way of a special occasion, but it worked.

I suppose this unadorned mixture, combined with the wearing of my "Sigur Ros" jumper (knitted by my mother in a traditional Icelandic style) genuinely brought a smile to my face. For a short time, in humble aberration, life wasn't the dire mess we've come to expect of late. There was no profiteering financial chaos (or an approximation thereof), no socially inept politicians trying to weasle their way out of theft allegations, murder, assisted suicide and the mind-numbing endless droning of Friends repeats. For one brief moment, when the harmonies of "Old Man" shone through, all of the mundanities of modern living fell away, allowing me to just be content in my own existence. To put it another way, what was an unremarkable grey morning like any other allowed me to experience joy at just being allowed to be. And you can't say fairer than that.

So, on that note, what modes of relaxation do the Massive employ to enjoy the days where they don't have meetings until 11 (like me) or have the strange rarity, the fabled day off?