iii

I didn’t want to miss out on writing a post a day, so I’m tapping out something on my iPhone while trundling home on the X90 back to Oxford.

I’m fairly drunk, there’s a girl snoring in the seat behind me, and the bus isn’t due into Oxford for another hour, which makes me quite sad. Actually I’m quite drunk.

plus this app seems only to write a character at a time which is terribly frustrating. So I’m overloading it with words almost in purpose to see if it can keep up. It’s doing okay.

The book I’ve been reading asks these entries to be about how I’m feeling. So, I’m okay, though my fiancée is in America. This makes me grumpy and even more solemn than usual.

My colleagues that I’ve been out with know something of my writing notions – the person who’s birthday it is has almost taken me under his wing, and the poem I’m writing has been mentioned a few times. This makes me feel slightly on show, affectatious. this is not a word according to Apple.

The girl snoring behind me I first though must be a pudgy man – that’s just the image I had. it’s quite funny that it’s a girl. It always amuses me when my presumptions are revealed to be absurd prejudgements.

I’m so tired I just want to close my eyes and sleep for days. Of course that’s really just the alcohol no doubt, though I’m sure that tomorrow isn’t going to be the easiest day to get through.

I’m playing football tomorrow. It’s funny reall, I’m quite competitive but with football I never feel that way. Not now anyway. Though I had a slight sense of it while captaining a side some time ago.

But even then it was really most about just playing. I relish the contact with the ball. The extra thought it needs, the considerations. The physics. It’s fascinating, and is so affected by my relationship with my own mind, and my own body. Which is really interesting.

Fortunately that’s about a half hour of drunken rambling. I’ve kept the routine up, although it isn’t quite right. I need my bed : (

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About Ben Catley-Richardson

Writer, reader, husband. Father!
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