rest for the wicked

 The race to the radiologists, arrive early and 

twenty minutes later it is already done, a CD with the data and just walk back home. It is easy in town. Stop at a café on the way, watch the Minoan girl serve behind the counter.

Go home, start to sort the papers with which it may be possible to calm the hunger of the tax accountant. 

And then take a train to the car repair place, and listen to the long explanations, cut them short and say that it is clear. Make up an appointment for the second week in April, perhaps they can fix it then. On the way to the repair place make an expensive order on ebay, who cares. Then see that a pdf has been sent by the artists, the work is complete and ready to go to the printers. It is now forty-eight pages long.

The repair shop is busy, leave them to their work after buying a can of motor oil. Hopefully this will never need to be used. 

In the evening, go to the pub and have a bowl of pea soup and two glasses of beer. Start to feel cold and ill, perhaps this is a delayed affect of the contrast stuff that was injected this morning.

There is a heap of fresh cat vomit waiting at the top of the stairs. Clear that away too, and think that there is no rest for the wicked.