Monday evening, an average day at work - except I narrowly avoided being consumed by a giant pelican in St James Park at lunch. A more intensely zombified Monday than the usual head-lolling stupor, I got up this morning to take Marc to Clapham Junction at 6.00AM - for a 23 year old who is still trying desperately to come to grips with non-student hours, I consider that a remarkable achievement.

So as I sit at my desk quietly astonished that my head is still balancing after 16 hours on the go, I put finger to keypad and try to heave up something interesting from my bleary whirl of thoughts. Spent Saturday enjoying what could be one of the last great sunny outdoor days. Now it's blowy and decidedly hostile out there. I have already started to make some nice comforting autumn food - cauliflower cheese with a generous sprinkle of nutmeg kept me cosy on Saturday. But defiantly I cling still to summer -I went to McDonalds (a place you won't find me often) and bought chocolate ice cream and sat on the King's Road slurping away to the sunset (and a fit topless builder...) and as my mind trails off into a moment of glazed wonder, I recollect myself and give a little jig - water is needed.

I have sat here for 3 minutes now thinking of something else to write. I have come to the conclusion that I am indeed very tired and that writing something is better than writing nothing. I am going to stagger the two feet or so that makes up the walk to my bed, I will climb in and gratefully become oblivious to that mad world for another night. Oh I can't wait. Good Night.