The phone goes, waking me up. It is the driver outside telling me that he's waiting and "whenever I'm ready."
You know it's been a late night when you have to use the taxi call as an alarm clock.
In my head there is only one song playing; the Freemasons' Remix of Solange's "Sandcastles".
I am in the cab drinking Reb Dull because a few hours earlier we were in the Destination Lounge at Heaven. It can't have been that good a party because we were invited but still, we were happy to drink their free booze until it ran out.
The free booze ran out very quickly.
Wondering if it's rude to put my iPod on to remember last night, instead of having to be force-fed BBC Radio 4 by the cab driver.
Memories that would go something like this...
At work and standing in a darkened room with loads of TV screens and people sitting concentrating and suddenly aware that I am still a little drunk.
There is so much to be done so I shall start doing it.
I don't know how I have managed to get through the last three and half hours but I have and I think I deserve a fucking medal.
The reward for this stamina comes thanks to Anna, "I think you should watch ITV, they're dunking Chippendales into a bath of water to test swimming costumes."
Anna is right because the view on the TV looks something like this..
In Westfield where something terrible catches my eye. And you can file this under "Pedantic Wanker", but it bothers me...
Because of my useless and hideously mundane life (do not read as ironic) I am looking up stuff that will keep me occupado. Like a hobby perhaps?
Skydiving sounds a good idea!
I mean, I sometimes eat food from the work canteen so I am not adverse to the risks of er, death.
If you're ever at White City tube station, here's a warning. Be careful because you could get poked in the bloody eye...
Slightly nervous but trying not to be.
Yes, skydiving is a hobby I am now actively considering...
Like bed okay!