Nervous Rambles.

I was listening to the radio station Classic FM in the car today. I heard the phrase ‘esoteric abstraction’ used, and wondered what it meant. Well, I know what ‘esoteric’ means, and I know what ‘abstraction’ means, so I decided that ‘esoteric abstraction’ means ‘a load of artsy bullshit.’

OK, next topic: the blood test.

‘How much are you going to take?’

‘Not much.’

‘I don’t have to do the “Blimey, that’s an armful” joke, then?’

‘No.’

‘Where are you going to take it from?’

‘Your arm.’

‘Will one be enough?’

Oops!

This blood test is worrying me. Suppose they find something and it’s terminal!

I think I’ll call into Homebase on the way back and buy that new rug I’ve been promising myself for the office. Comfort buying.

I just had a piece of buttered toast to go with the Lochnagar 12-year-old malt I’m drinking at the moment (left over from Christmas.) Toast and good scotch go well together.

Who shall I send an e-mail to?

I’ll re-phrase that.

To whom should I send an e-mail?

Going to bed soon. I have to be up early because the blood courier doesn’t collect after midday. Omens, omens...

One more scotch first. No, two.

Night.