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In the liminal state between awake and asleep I had a fantastic idea. I can’t remember the idea now, just that I was jolly impressed with my half-conscious self for being so brilliant, but it was probably some nonsense.
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Went for a corona jab in a Wellbeing Hub in a shopping centre I mainly associate with feeling slightly unwell while searching desperately for a toilet or an exit. Now my shoulder feels satisfyingly sore like I’ve been pumping iron, and maybe coincidentally my tongue’s gone a bit funny, and that’s OK.
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As I walked along, a chap cycling past slipped and fell off his bicycle (he was OK), then minutes later I passed a child bawling his eyes out after falling off a scooter – it was like an omen foretelling what would happen to me if went cycling in these moist, early autumn conditions with my Continental Gatorskin tyres.
Then I bought a pie, which had been praised by YouTube nutter who’s sure to be played by Michael Sheen when they make the film of his life. It was a good pie which I might have enjoyed more if I wasn’t Obtsobering again this month (unlike the bibulous vlogger). Also tried the “chicken curry” version, which was too underwhelming to have been worth killing a chicken for, oh dear.