Coughing like an old asbestos worker today. It came on sudden after a night’s heavy drinking and Parcour tomfoolery. I woke up in Putney confused by my geographic location and irritated by my inability to remember to drink copious amounts of water before going to sleep.
By then it was already late, sometime mid-afternoon and that meant there was work to be done and casualties along the way. The Greek was somewhat agrieved to hear that I would not now be popping over to his flat for some light marootage later in the day. I apologised, I was a drunken fool I explained.
My cough was getting worse so I knuckled down to the computinator to get some work out of the way. A lot has happened in the last few weeks and I find myself desperately trying (and so far failing) to make some space to sit down and get some writing out, not least to clear the mental tubes a bit. Avoid complete shutdown or complete burst of the seratonin valve and all that good stuff. Ah well, perhaps it will happen and perhaps it won’t. If I can just preserve the valve, then everything else might just be well.