and on the eighth day…

It has been a somewhat busy week. Work has had me in at 6am, and until 7pm, for unpaid overtime. They no longer promise Argos vouchers. It’s just “expected”. It’s just “that which needs to be done”. So I walk from Preston at 4am to get things done. My unbalanced mind is not a pretty place without the added waste of a boss who “knows better”.

I am doing okay. Things are messy. Vague, eh? Well, an audience is an audience. People know who they are. I feel awkward because it involves people with whom I am becoming good, stronger friends. And yeah, context…I don’t wan’t to gossip. Nor make crass jokes. I broke through a police fence to get here. Just finished boozing. Putting the world to rights. I want to sleep. I need less drink and more time away. No holidays planned…

Spent the week at work, and sleeping late for 4am starts. The steps in my house creak, so I think the housemate is just as annoyed as I. Then..nothing. Talked to my mate about some crazy dreams. They all stem from “The Friday Incident”. In one my mates A and J are playing pool with me when the room floods..In another I lose all my teeth, but there is a coloured rainbow against the monochrome sky…And recently my sister, or a character with that implied role, telling me off for…..was it eating? It was something minor…It woke me up before my alarm, this morning. I do not know what my dreams imply. They all suggest memory, regret, and death.

I need sleep. It’s been a hard day’s night…

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