Late night, maudlin street….

Hmmm. Late night, maudlin street. Morning comes and everything looks sparkly and fine again. Or at least it would if Kate – my flatmate and personal morning alarm call – had bothered to get up this morning. Accidentally waking up at 9.15am isn’t ideal when you’re supposed to be at work at 9.30. So I’m unshaven and smelly and with bed hair of such potency that it would make other bed hair feel inadequate and emasculated.