6.30am, the couple overhead fighting and fucking things around again.
Teleshopping on RTE1.
Rain about to pour.
The Sky Sports News night staff, janitors masquerading as newsreaders.
A shirt, a pair of jeans, socks and shoes strewn in different corners of the flat.
Tired but not tired.
Padraig Harrington's nasal whittle on an Optical Express ad.
Check sent items, the coincidence of a shared birthday.
Check inbox. 'Loving your blog.' Panic.
Back to bed, a slow sleep.