I made a substantial mistake last night - I decided that I was tired enough to warrant an early night, and was in bed by 10:45. I slept like the proverbial log - for about an hour and a half, before waking for the first of what seemed like innumerable times at 12:30, eventually giving up the fight at 5:30 when an attack of cramp in my calf convinced me that I wasn't fated to recharge my batteries in any meaningful way, and I got up feeling even more washed out than I had when I'd gone to bed. Not the ideal preparation for a twelve hour shift at work (which, after a little jiggery-pokery turned out to be ten and a half), but I did, at least, manage to get through the day without doing anything too deranged.
My earlier than anticipated escape from work has found me in 'domicile-ville' Wetherspoons on their busiest night of the week. I'm not a wild fan of the pub at the best of times, it's always more convenient than congenial, but when it's full of mouthy yobs and their blousy molls, it's even less palatable. Compared to what else is on offer in this benighted town, though, it's very much the best of a bad bunch. Given that there's no compulsion on me to be here, I guess I should swallow my intellectual snobbery and make the best of it!
Love & best wishes to all