Night Thoughts

Well, here I am, about to enjoy the rest of my summer holiday, and this is my first midweek night-time post for a month. In fact it is not quite 11.30, so it isn't very late, but I am still yawning my head off. Obviously having spent a whole month leaping enthusiastically (not) out of bed at 6.45 every morning, I am not going to be able to start enjoying my customary late nights for a week or so yet.

Yesterday was the last morning of the course and it is always very hectic, as the boys and girls abandon their previous relatively good behaviour and start charging round the place like maniacs. They finally go home around 1, and then the teachers clear up, put their things away, and repair to (a) a bar; then (b) a restaurant, and later on about half the number who went to the restaurant repair to (c) a nearby traffic-free square where there are a number of terrazas, i.e. little bars with huge numbers of chairs and tables outside. Arrival at point (c) is usually between four and five, and as it is a tradition going back many years, it has been known to end between four and five the next morning.

Whether it did last night, I don’t know, though I imagine not, as when I left at about half past eight there were only four people still there.

I wandered homeward, feeling tired, slightly sloshed but quite content. I crashed into bed and slept soundly until the alarm, which I had omitted to reset, shrilled into life at 6.45.

Foolishly, I decided to get up, fondly imagining that I’d get loads of stuff done. But I haven’t. I’ve felt too sleepy most of the time to do much more than read and play around with various aspects of my computer, and tinker with one of my Powerpoint quizzes.

I’ve also been keeping a weather eye open on the various football pages for news of the hoped-for last-minute Charlton signings, but with hope failing fast, I eventually paid a visit to All Quiet in the East Stand where I learned that there aren’t going to be any, as recounted on the link through to the Charlton page. As my friend the Inspector so rightly says, oh, bugger.

Bed now. Maybe tomorrow I'll tell the story of the nice motherly lady at Boots, and matters arising...