Fiction and gossip

Incredibly crawling late train this morning. The Brighton to St Pancras First Capital Connect service is truly dire, and their timetables are works of risible fiction. I find this all very stressful.

Once at work, a pleasant enough day. Off at lunchtime with Matt to a local pub and we discussed my (advertising focused) New Idea, plus Jungian archetypes and other wide ranging subjects over a glass of wine and a bit of fish-based snap. 

After work, I found myself in an extraordinary local dive called The County with Steve and Pat, (who have their own unsavoury name for it). Like stepping back into the 1970s, with strange decorations and lots of little tables with chairs. I had to change my chair for the gentleman who had been sitting in it before me was evidently rather aromatic. An hour or so given over to gossiping about former colleagues and their mad ways. Interspersed with older people shouting at each other.  Home, and a late chat with Lorraine before heading for bed, with a strangely raging stomach that felt like I had swallowed a brick.