I should be soooo tired but when I look out of the car window everything is so sharply in focus, I notice more detail than I can fully process. When I woke up too early this morning, Mr was snoring and most of our cash had worked its way behind the bar of the Bristol Hilton. Left him sleeping, put on my favourite red swimsuit, wandered to the pool. There was only me and the water and the steam room. Dried, dressed, smelling of complimentary body lotion, back the room where Mr is putting on trousers and talking of breakfast. Breakfast is a fantastic idea, we pursue it wholeheartedly. Later at home I am walking around the fields with Dog, the wind is cold, the tree joints grumble. The wind rattles through everything like it is trying to find its car keys. What does a wind need car keys for, I ask myself, the kind of question that tells me I am indeed rather sleep short. Getting in a car and going to a Dinner Dance, I decide, the wind is jealous of my weekend adventure; answering my own question, the kind of answer that tells me I am very sleep short but it has been hilariously worthwhile.
There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...

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