As my third empty coffee cup of the day bounces off the side of the bin beside my desk I (re)realise why I dread the one week in four when I'm on support.
Early mornings don't make for a happy David.
Or Ted as they were calling me at the weekend. (Just one of the many names I was called...)
The re-evaluation of my life is still on-going, and today I realise that it wasn't just lack of sleep last night that was making me feel discontent.
I feel the need to go home. Really feel it.
Current ideas for turning my life around:
Wait for the contract to wind up and head to Australia.
Wait for the contract to wind up and climb Mount Kilimanjaro.
Wait for the contract to wind up and join a travelling band.
Wake up tomorrow, send an e-mail to everyone in my address book saying 'I fancy a holiday' and disappear.
At least the Journal would start getting a bit more interesting if I did that...
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The Casita Inauguration and Operation Glasgow the artists relax at Jardin du Luxembourg and a pigeon and a lovely statue The Casita Grand Op...
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The Sun newspaper finally does something to justify its existence after only 43 years. Gaz Topp is actually spelled 'Gaz Top' and a...
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Had dental work done today and feel a bit groggy. Please ignore any sloppiness in the following post (although I have no excuse for the last...
THE BLOG IS DEAD (I mean the blog as a medium. This blog is merely sleeping.) I really miss writing the blog so I'm determined ...
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