Lord of Leisure

You know when you get one of those times where possibly your body had been assaulted and perhaps not in a good way, where even the laws of gravity are not on your side. This was one of those times.

Having gone to bed with a mixture of sleep deprivation, foreign booze and a cuddly toy, I was taken into a world of darkness, and would remain there if only for the melodic ringing of the blackberry at my bedside, informing me that either I was entitled to a special ultra deluxe phone package with 4756746773458734583458345 minutes of free texting for the cheap price of £450 a year plus the body part of your choice or someone wanted to talk to me who was in Estonia.

The ordeal of trying to open your eyes was more traumatic than trying to evade capture by the student people on the streets of London. The pain, the suffering, all that had been before was nothing compared to the sheer strain of letting a glimmer of daylight piece the darkness that had consumed me.

Pressed on I did, until one full eye was open, and I found after a few seconds that I could read again too. It was Steve, just wondering if we could meet up at 11, a mere hour from the phone call. You would have possibly had a safer bet on the plumber not over charging for that bit of bent pipe which costs 50p from the Plumb Center.

But never one to lie down for long, I raised my head aganist my better judgement and made my way out of the sleeping world into the waking one. Not a clever thing to do but there we are.

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As I write this, it’s 2:25am on a brisk Thursday morning, and all the while every creature on the earth is stirring if the noise is anything to be believed. I’ve even got to the point where I think the cleaner man is enjoying going up and down the check-out where everyone is trying to sleep, just because he’s stuck on the crappy night shift.

I’ve had to reside myself to the fact that there is not going to be much sleep between now and the now agonising flight out to the forbidden planet, or whereever it is, I’ve forgotten at this point. I suppose it comes from a combination of sleep depravation which has all sorts of funny side effects which come into play at some point, like getting twitchy and hearing more voices than usual.

To combat this, I’ve taken refuge in the Costa Coffee place next to the building site they seem to have errected in the middle of the check-in area, which is kind of daft considering it also appears the workmen are enjoying themselves at this time of the day too.

It was also interesting to chat to a couple of the airport staff, as they brought up the issue of liquids still being disallowed on all flights, in case we have the thoughts “I can’t take any more, goodbye cruel world!!” and detonate the handy liquid bomb we just happened to carry at the time.

Millions of pounds they say it costs, and it will never be changed owing to the fact that the shoe bomber of yesteryear, Richard Reed’s own device was clear liquid, and was not really distingishable from water. Eep. This does kind of beg the question: Would these measures really stop someone who was determined, seeing as it was easy to mix in with something else?

Of course time will tell on that score.

Ah well, those matters are for another time, for now, let’s keep back the wave of tiredness with an overpriced and under tasty coffee drink. Take it easy campers, and sweet dreams.

Wednesday was a great day, and beside the celebration of of the birthday with friends and family, which always seems to be an award winner, of course the day of graduation from Wolverhampton took place, the main thing I suppose to take away was the fact that after all that effort, the time taken away from the the blog and other things being stranded in the Arctic tundra all that time, getting cold and losing games of ludo to the polar bears, it was all worth it.

And finally here are only just a couple of pictures from that day:

The three surviving contestants on the long windy road which lead us to this point, or course you may recognise the world renowned Lord of Leisure, wanted in three countries for his severe criminal case of apathy. We then move to the middle of the pack, Paul Bremer, a man who defies gravity on a daily basis with his secret machine of lies. Lastly of course, we present Mr. Steve Middleton, the man who remained confident to the last that all would be well, even when it got hugely annoying, er, I mean inspiring….

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