Commuting to work through a thick, thick fog. It’s like travelling to another dimension, really; you travel through the intergalactic white tube and emerge on the other side, and spend a bit of your allotted time there before travelling back.
Ideally so, I guess; putting in too many hours in my own time, should really try and put a stop to that. Life’s short, remember? Poor Dennis, up till 4 o’clock in the freaking morning to grind away at deadlines… Can’t do that anymore. Too old.
Visited with Thor on my tuesday evening. Hard to talk to, but I think he’s doing ok. Gave me a Tommy Hilfiger suit he’d grown out of, how very thoughtful of him.