Ramblings of a daytime sleeper.

I've just woken up from a daytime doze in a waffley blanket to A Whiter Shade of Pale, so I feel somewhat erethral. That's the first time I've slept during the day for so long - I like the gentle disorientation of it when I don't have anything else to do and, I know you're not meant to be if you want to be lithe and slim and admirable, but eating good food and curling up and snoozing away the afternoon feels like a damn good way of spending a day. I'm also glad no-one saw my rumply pillow face and just woken-up look.

Today I got IDed for the first time (other than systematic club ID flashing) for a long time. It was probably my blathering on to Sarah that did it.
Till-person: How old are you?
Lucy looks puzzled and stares vacently into space: errrrrr.........oh...21

I offered ID after that. She took it. So now she knows that legally, technically, I am allowed to buy alcohol, but I suspect that she's still concerned. Does a person who cannot remember their age, completely sober, after a full night's rest, at midday in Sainsbury's, sound like the type of person who should be allowed to drink? I think not. I think she's right to be worried.

Why can't I read anymore? Ah the irony of a literature degree rendering me incapable of concentrating on novels.