Fridays feel fucking great, don't they? Just mere hours to go before we can claim back our lives. Not that there are too many great plans for the weekend. I have become lazy - and I'm loving it (although it won't last as we're on the verge of taking up sport).
Body feels odd post-Tai Chi. I am much more aware of various aches and pains - last night felt twinges everywhere and had excessive kidney pain for a good hour. And you know that way your legs feel in dreams, when you can't run? That's how my legs feel. This was just one reason for lack of sleep. The scumbag neighbours really need to buy a new bed. While their sex lacked an element of human noise, and there was no apparent climax to proceedings, the bed was squeaking like a million-strong orchestra of mice. These small 150-year-old terraced houses lack a thick enough dividing wall. We can take solace in the knowledge that the woman next door only rattles the bed frame when her various noisy fucking children, all to different fathers we've surmised, are away. Which, again annoying, isn't very often. I'm not sure which is worse, so I may have to kill the lot of them.
The man on my left urged me to visit the online CV of a certain newspaper editor, which was, as the left-hand-sider pointed out, rather telling. A scroll down to the foot of the entry reveals that there's not much time for fun when you hold such a position of power. Still, when you're editing a paper and re-inventing a city in your own image, leisure activities must seem such a nonsense.
Listening: Anthony & The Johnsons - I Fell In Love
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