The nation is wonderfully distracted. Many Londoners, at least, are living, eating and breathing the Olympics. Young girls across the country are watching the finest and most inspirational female competitors ever to grace our screens. Obsessed listeners rang BBC Radio London with the strange dreams they had been experiencing: winning a chocolate gold coin in the hurdles, throwing Victoria Pendleton in the javelin, and riding Zara Phillips around the dressage arena. My own dream involved weightlifting several large female weightlifters. Not sure I should reveal that one to a worldwide audience.
Anyway, it's all fabulous for morale, even if the killjoy Socialist Workers outside the tube are trying to put a dampener on things.
So, it's a perfect time for our leaders to entertain some Russian presidents and a controversial media mogul. There was brief outrage at Boris Johnson hanging out with Rupert Murdoch, but then we all just got on with staring at Jessica Ennis' abs. So, all political controversy has been put on hold. Only gripes about ticket sales are allowed.
Below are a couple of photos of the Olympic vibe around our way. We seem to have been over-run with very healthy-looking Dutch people dressed in orange.
Many seem to be wearing suits. Or orange jumpers around their powerful shoulders. They all seem so bloody nice.
They are usually on orange bikes:
Or wearing furry hats or orange welly boots...
Then there's the Chinese: they like to paint their faces:
The army like shopping at Primark in Westfield Stratford City, between duties filling up the empty seats in the basketball. The Union Jack fleece jumpsuit might be a little warm for the time of year. Not great camouflage either.