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All the euphoria of the weekend has long gone and the yawning chasm between now and 5pm Friday is so wide that fat American tourists are turning up in RVs to peer over the side of it and eat ice-cream.
So I'm off to the pub tonight, which is nice.
Well I'm going to a book club to discuss a very boring cloggy novel in cloggy.
"Ask not what you can do for your country. Ask what's for lunch." - Orson Welles
Upgrade to 1st class on the train home tonight, on account of having befriended a weeping lady who had a panic attack. I did have to listen to her entire life story for over an hour though...
Upgrade to 1st class on the train home tonight, on account of having befriended a weeping lady who had a panic attack. I did have to listen to her entire life story for over an hour though...
Not suity. One of her many problems was anorexia. Which seemed unusual in a 71 year old lady, but perhaps it isn't. She'd been at her sister's funeral and I think it had all got a bit much for her.
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