21 st February.

21/02/2007 11:21
Been up an hour, feeling lethargic, sat and smoked the usual breakfast rollies with first cuppa, went and chopped a couple of logs with second smoke, relaxed with third and here I am now with fourth.
Had a comfortable night’s sleep, probably combination of being tired and having couple of joints.
Weather is nothing dramatic, broken grey cloud cover, little breeze, but dry.
Not in the mood to do a lot, just as well there is little to do.
Hair feels like it is alive, looking forward to a bath and clean up, feel like some old dosser.
Have a little worry about return of money I’ve lent out this week, will give it a couple of days.
Looks like the smoke relaxed me yesterday judging by amount of rambling, enjoyable, easy afternoon’s writing.
I had no idea what to write about so just sat and let it flow, after all any practise is worth it.
Had bath, shave, shampoo and shit and got ready to go into town.
Was thinking, may have problems parking, with the market being on but arrived on time at the Opticians.
I sat in his chair clutching a copy of Private Eye.

“What are we aiming for this time?”, I asked, he asked me how I was getting on and what I was up to,
I said I had no problems with seeing the monitor but wanted to read again so we decided upon a pair of bi-focals.
He checked my eyes and told me they were clean and healthy and we got down to the sight test.
I mentioned laser treatment and he told me he had referred hundreds of patients for the treatment,
I added the idea of travelling so far for the initial consultation had put me off.
He told me he was currently working with the local N.H.S. locally and that there were plans for a new clinic, locally in the next two years.
Apparently my prescription makes me borderline for the treatment, I would probably still need some assistance, he told me, but added that the clinics were making progress every year.
In his opinion I would be able to take advantage of the treatment and the figure of £3,000 was bandied about.
I then left his office and was placed in the hands of the technician,
“Would you like to choose your frames?” he asked,
I remembered the cost of the last pair, well over £100.
“Your voucher will cover test and lens,” he said,” you just have to pay for frames,” he added as I stood gazing at a wall of frames, starting from £75 and going to £120 plus,
or you can have those for £4.00,
“Sounds right to me”, I said and I picked up the frames, hell it’s only a pair of specs,
why pay a fortune?
He checked them over and they were suitable for my needs, I decided to have the usual light tint and I left the shop, waiting for a phone call to herald their arrival some time in the next week or so.
I put my lens back in and went to the local pub to see the baccy baron, I bought a bottle of brown and paid him for what I’d had off him and picked up a few more packets.
The beer tasted funny and right from the first couple of mouthfuls I began to burp and feel acid in my gut.
I left and went over the road to another pub for a lager.
There was a group of guys around a table, guys I’ve spent many hours in their company, smoking, arguing and drinking,
I chose to sit on my own in the comfortable leather sofa in the window.
One of the guys was my old dealer and I would have liked to have had a few words with him but decided there was too much company around to talk shop.
I dismissed the idea of having a third pint, and indeed went to the tobacconists for some papers to save me from popping into my club for same.
As I drove home, acid was brewing in my gut and I cursed the first bottle of beer which seemed to have started my stomach off.
By the time I arrived home I felt uncomfortable so went to bed, opting for a couple of hours sleep before the night’s viewing.
I was just drifting off when something noisy was put through letter box, later there was a knock on the door , when I eventually got downstairs no on was there, but I’d managed to see my dealer driving away so surmised it was him.
I picked up the phone book from the floor and returned to bed,
I relaxed myself and began to drift once again until brought back to reality by the sound of a scooter.
I really hate those machines and the awful noise they make!
I looked at clock and decided I may as well get up and prepare a meal.
I cut up a pound of liver and a couple of onions and fried the life out of both.
I didn’t really enjoy the meal, simply chewed and swallowed, only enjoyment coming from the caramelised onion.
Watched TV , usual soaps and weekly episodes of favourites;
I then had the choice of sticking with what seemed a weak film.
I decided against it and went to bed early in preparation for exam tomorrow.