06:30 - They are gone. No sounds of squabbling inside and all is quiet outside. Coffee and a smoke on the balcony. This will trigger the clockwork shit.
06:45 - Let's do a bit of work if for no other motive than to appease my conscience. There's a half-finished bottle of rosé in the fridge... what the hell.
07:15 - That went down a treat. I'm sure there is half a bottle of red around. TalkSPORT is on. The Prem won't be back for a while but there is always football stuff to talk about: Brighton reject 70 million quid bid for Caicedo; Lionesses want more money. Some bloke hit two holes-in-on.
07:40 - Second breakfast looming, brought on by that first glass of red. Scrambled egg goes down a treat. Work-wise, I fool my guilt into believing that I have done enough. Still quiet. Quick check on the world news... heatwaves. Gotta be enough left for a second glass.
08:15 - Second glass despatched. Funny how a guilty pleasure always tastes so good. Back to the balcony for another smoke.
08:20 - Slash, scratch, bed. Gervais and Merchant are slagging off Pilkington. Heard it a thousand times but I know they and the brekkie vino will send me where I wanna go. Rebecca de Mornay, Clive Warren...
10:20 - Has anyone in the history of sleeping ever woke up as contently as me? It is so relaxing that there should be a bit of classical music being played in the background. Scratch, slash, balcony.
