Friday at last

Kept awake by the stormy night, and what my Hypochondriac's Handbook (a thoughtful recent gift from Richard and Jane) tells me is Chinese Restaurant Syndrome.

Up hideously early walking through a rainwashed Brighton. Train slow this morning, crawling north. Work quite hectic. Agency Fridays are often a bit frenzied as everyone rushes to meet deadlines of one sort or another. Deafening fireworks near the office, then spilled out onto the street at 5:30 with The French Bloke, and had a lightning fast drink before I caught my train. The FB is growing a moustache for Movember, and it is making him look like Lemmy out of Motörhead.

Straight to The Basketmakers. Betty, Lorriane, Matt, Wayne, Cath, Linda and Linda's mate Karen squeezed around two tables. Supped pints of seafarers and talked to all these friends for hours, before Lorraine and I with Cath walked home. Beth collected by Amy and Jamie. L and I bidding farewell to Cath outside bloody Ace pizza as I had not eaten. Home and ate pizza, before succumbing to tiredness. Friday at last. What a fop I am to be so shattered after just a week or so.

Below two stencils that I noticed lately on my way to work.


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