I do seem incapable of coherent thought, or more precisely, putting down my thoughts here in some sort of coherent form. How odd.
I lack the anger I felt early last year caused by the documents project at Horwich. I seem to be floating along in a haze of obscure thouhts. Maybe this is
why I just plod along at the back of races rather that attacking at the front ? One of the judges, one Polly remarked on Sunday, 'thats an odd way to attack, at the back'. Did he mean my do-or-die attack or the fact I spent most of the race lurking around the back of the bunch ? My ideas seem to sputter out in dribs and drabs like a dribby and drabby leak from a water pipe. I need another wild night in Manchester, not like the last one that consisted of me slumping asleep not long after midnight, no doubt down to the large amounts of Hoegaarden. Were those 1 litre or 1 pint glasses ? I suspect I knocked back 3 litres, no wonder I passed out.
I offered to help with paying the deposit for her car on Sunday, I don't think that was appreciated, did I sound patronising ?