Back to Brighton

More strange dreams: this time I was setting up an agency and firing the financial guy before we'd even started trading.

A beautiful morning. Fond farewells to John and Sue, who had been excellent hosts, and had not minded my narcolepsy. Then aboard Bexy (Lorraine's car) and pootled up the nearby fish hill, before making off into the wild blue yonder. Took a longer route back through the rolling big-skied openness of the Cotswolds. Enjoyable drive stopping off for a plate of ratparts at a KFC in a service station, after deciding the Bank Holiday crush in the Cotswold towns was too much. I haven't had a KFC in something like 10 years. I have had a curious craving for them lately, which is soon cured by actually eating them. I'm good for another 10 years. Otherwise listening to CDs and Radio four and keeping calm when Lorraine explained that Stevie Wonder's Innervisions was an average record.

Stopped off at the Tropical fish shop where I bought some live food as a treat for my fish, and Lorraine bought some neon tetras.

Home to my Calliope who seemed none the worse for wear, although hyped up and bursting around the house. Anton, I noticed, having nicely fed Calliope, had added fresh angel fish to the list of cat foods I had left him.

In the evening off to the usual curry house to meet Lorraine and Beth to have a meal with Sam, who has just turned 20. Sam sporting a good hat and ordering a prawn phal, perhaps the hottest dish on the menu. I had a spoon of it, and it was fiery. Sam getting it down, blinking somewhat. Betty had to leave to go to her short term nannying job in Eastbourne, and seems to be doing well. Mark now embarked on his singing and dancing in Old Folks' homes job. Drank a certain amount of lager. Left Sam and Lorraine to chat, before returning home ready for bed.

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