I been watching film for tomorrow and pub working and such, only time for blog is now, in bed, eyes droopling. big struggle to get any words at all. Bin bags tonight. Bin bag night. Fifty bin bags to take out, piled to ceiling in bin store, some with ends untied, some roll and rip and disgorge contents across sodden floor. Dripping juices. Cocktails sticks and glass shards sticking outwards. Yellow vomit food splattered across my new shoes. But a job's a job.
Four days blogging after tonight, then my year is out. I'm running on fumes, skidding over finish line with tires blown and doors hanging off. Need some time recuperating when I'm done. Get through Snooker and then book a week off, sleep, read literature, take photos in afternoon light, see friends, bed early nights, remember how to be human and refill that creative well.
Last few posts, i can do this. No more now though. I sleeping as I type. Bubye. Going now. Sleeping. Bubyeee. x
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