Coffee

I’ve had so many cups of coffee today my bowels sound like they’ve been overdubbed by Mercedes McCambridge*, I kid you not. Let it be a lesson. One cigarette and one cup of coffee might get your bowels moving but I’ve lost count of the cigarettes and the cups and now I feel like I’m ready to give birth to a school of squid. Or, worse, that I might have a prolapse. Damn that DeLonghi espresso machine. There have been a couple of moments of actual pain, dear reader, holding on to the sides of the table territory, being forced to assume positions that would appear to the casual observer like I was trying to move a large invisible freight ship out of my way. And NOW it’s about 4am and am I ready to sleep? No. I’m not even thinking straight – I’ve just unconsciously cracked open a diet coke, if you don't mind. And the framed Bette Davis picture gazing over at me from the windowsill has got “I coulda told ya so” written all over it. Unless I’m hallucinating. One thing about this level of intimate discomfort, though, is you get a sense of perspective. I wasn’t worried about my hat hair on the streets of Shoreditch today ‘cos I was too busy concentrating on not shitting myself.

We-ell. It’s gone 4am. It’s time for bed. No one’s even reading this, are you? Not now, at any rate. Coffee, eh? NONE tomorrow. Ciao for now, dear reader. Think on.

*Mercedes McCambridge: Hollywood actress, had an affair with Joan Crawford (allegedly), starred opposite her in Johnny Guitar, did the voice of the devil in The Exorcist.