Sunday 5 April 2009

What time is it?

My jetlag waking hour is 4.00 am. A breakfast of nescafe and crushed jaffa cakes before the five hour wait for work to start, I might have to tuck into that cucumber after all. The local fags have given me a lung ache and I can recall seven extremely vivid dreams, three of which featured a horrible bloke that I used to work with.

I've started reading John Kennedy Toole's 'A Confederacy of Dunces' whose lead character is a more eloquent version of the horrible bloke that I used to work with.

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