All work and no play makes Jack...
Still, it won’t be long before I can start drinking myself to sleep and that will be the end of another day. I wonder where they all go.
Is there some metaphysical being somewhere which consumes days? Is
a human life nothing more than a bottle of milk in his fridge? It sometimes
feels that way.
I had to fill in a form today with lots of detailed financial
information. It took 2½ hours and was far trickier than the average tax return.
Such things are troublesome but manageable when you’re in an up phase, but when
you’re in a down one they pull you lower.
It was all to do with some pretty considerable debts which
were never mine, but which I got lumbered with because I allowed the agreements
to be in my name. I’ve been paying them off for quite a few years, and there
are lots more years’ worth still remaining. Maybe the dregs will be
inadvertently swallowed by the Consumer of Days when he gets to the bottom of the
bottle. Maybe they will give him a stomach ache.
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