Friday morning, berserk!

Got to break out of this existence. Mother and her anger at everything, but mainly directed at me. It's my fault she slept so well, but was up at 6:50 as she could hear me closing doors - I should become incorporeal. 

The normal pattern of my Wetherby existence was shattered as conversations about the usual Brexit, Ukraine anti Labour (everyone of them she despises personally) so I grabbed the bag of bottles accreting in the dining area of the extended kitchen. The things she's convinced of like  'self-sufficiency'... England hasn't been in that position since before the Industrial Revolution (if it ever really was as people starved much more often then too). There are too many people. There has always been too many people! One person is actually too many: look at the effect of us on everything we love or hate. So now I am spending £2.80 to listen to awful music in BAE for a few minutes before I run back and take Lola: the espresso was cold. How odd I didn't realise until I had swallowed and then thought... This shouldn't be cold. Now I have had two espressos and I really shouldn't haven't have had one. A day that could be beautiful if I let it!

People complaining it is cold, but it is. I had to return to my mum's to pick up a coat before I deposited her empty plonk bottles and my beery ones.  At the bottle bank I needed a new book to read, as I'd seen off Clive James and the first part of his witty autobiography. In a forgotten bag of pulp was a Graham Greene one I haven't read The End of the Affair. Serendipity. I'll get an extra £1200 from the government because energy monoliths make huge fortunes out of life's necessities... The only problem with two espressos is it leads to wonton defecation!