11:20 pm: I
go to bed early for once. I say "bed" but it's just couch cushions on the lounge floor, and
sleeping bag. I need a good light's rest, and it's not easy on this bedding.
1:30 am: flatmate stumbles in, drunk, acompanied by his even drunker boss. Within half an hour the boss has been persuaded to pass out on the couch. I can sleep again.
around 2:30 am: Move bedding into passageway to escape the deafening snoring from his fat carcass. I can still hear it through the closed door, but it's better. I can sleep again.
6 am: daylight: Flatmate and boss are rousing and hurrying to catch a train to Brighton, hung over and trying to work out what they did last night. They leave and I can sleep again.
9 am: Other flatmates leave. I can sleep again, alone in the flat now.
10 am: I decide that further sleep is not going to happen and I get up. I am half-awake, disassociated. I need my own place. Real soon.
Later in the day I am still waiting for a call, for a new position to be posted, or for agents to get back to me. I have no excuse to bug them right now. Listening to the twin peaks soundtrack. At frankie's urging, I bug some of them, with good feedback.
Later I have more than an hour inb hand, so I play tourist, head over to Embankment tube station, walk to Trafalgar square, stare up at Nelson on his column, then visit the National Gallery. Monet, Manet and Renoir bring a smile to my face. An unexpected bonus is some Turner pieces - Fantastical landscapes hidden in the clouds, and the rising sun's rays like a great ribbed vault. Yes, I am lucky to be here.