I oversleep in the morning again, darn it, and get in to Walker at the usual time. That is to say, late. Long chat to Denise on the way. Wandering along with a phone connected to one’s ear is actually a lot more satisfying than I thought.
I pass a banana skin on the pavement, but don’t slip on it. It’s such a rare thing to see outside of issues of The Beano.
There’s a chap who carries a briefcase and walks between St George’s Road and the Embankment, constantly talking to himself. I presume that he does it all day, as I pass him on the way to and from.
The usual Maisying at Walker’s.
In the evening plug in the keyboard and make random noises. Well, not quite random, perhaps, but nothing of lasting interest.