Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Man in a Cat-Suit*

Today I'm practicing being unemployed. I even had an unsuccessful interview this morning for a job, which I think shows a certain dedication to the endeavour.

To be honest, the experimentation is a little flawed, as having €20 to spare in my wallet, I wasn't devilishly poor or anything.

Down the shops, I took my time selecting lunch (there are tomatoes, and there are tomatoes), before coming home and sitting outside in the sun (albeit windy sun) and chomping merrily away (the joy of a carefully prepared sandwich are manifold).

Aw, the plans I had, the things I was going to do, the stories I was going to write.

Unfortunately, following the sandwich, I was overcome with tiredness. It was 12.30pm. I struggled upstairs in a most slow and painful manner, stopping at the spare room (aka my little study) where the bed looked so soft and cosy, I just had to sink myself into it.


Now it is 3.30pm. I'm not quite sure what happened in between.

I have to go out soon, but all I want to do is gently rest my head on that cool, comfy pillow. Maybe this is has nothing to do with my unemployment, perhaps it is related to my TV deprevation - or maybe I'm ill.

Who cares, all I want to do is sleep zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

*nope, not what I'm dreaming of, rather it refers to the image on a new postcard I have on my wall, picked it up in a shop in Brick Lane when I was in London, it is for: ... seems to be an international short film festival...

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