Wednesday 15 September 2004
Itâs now 11h44 UK time. My body is telling me that Iâve been awake for 21.5 hours. By the time I catch my flight to Belfast, arrive, hopefully have tea, and try to desperately stay awake until around 21h00 Belfast time, I will have been awake a full 31 hours. What joy! Itâs only been 21 and Iâm already shattered. The flight from San Fran to London was an hour shorter than planned and I had the lovely time of sitting next to a brother and sister from Belfast. It was absolutely brilliant, and helped the time go faster.
Iâm watching an old, semi-overweight woman read a âPersonal Trainerâ magazine. How ironic as sheâll probably never do any of the recommended training ideas. So that makes me wonder what I read and see but never actually hear and see.
A kid just sat down with a cymbal bag. Maybe heâs a fabulous drummer and no one knows it. Or maybe he plays crap, but loves it. I wonder what kind of cymbals they are and watch him tap his hands on the back of the chairs next to him.
Thereâs a young dad and mum with their little boy and lass. Daâs trying to get the lad asleep, nearly falling asleep himself. He looks well knackered. The wee lad will have none of it and proceeds to get down and offer his crisp to another baby tucked in a pram.