The sign of three

It's a sign that I'm back in London.

In 8 days in Shropshire, I smoked fewer than 100 cigarettes. Back in London less than 24 hours, and allowing for 7 hours sleep in the middle, I have just taken off the cellophane and tapped my second packet. And it's not as if I've been out drinking either. I am going to have to rethink the methodology of sitting in front of a PC. The trouble is, if I designate my garret as a no-smoking area, there's only me to enforce the ban, and on my self, too. If it was that easy, I'd have stopped smoking years ago.

Another sign that I'm back is the fact that it was around 4am when I finally turned in. For some reason The Antiques Roadshow was more compulsive than sleep at 3am...

The third and final sign is the appearance of the seasonably ubiquitous mince pies for breakfast. Not something that I'd normally consider, but I have nothing in and am disappearing off for a couple of days again so mince pies it is. (Even I can't face the thought of Christmas cake for breakfast, but then there is next week...).

And so the oddly customised bohemian lifestyle continues.

Some would resolve to give up smoking, but I am wary of new year resolutions; it's hard to get excited over the fact that the clock has moved forward by a second and that I have put up a new calendar. So 10 years ago I resolved never to make a new new year's resolution. It's the only resolution I've ever kept.

I am off to Marlow shortly, so this will be the final entry for 2003.

If you're out tonight, have a good one. And let me be the very first to wish you a happy and preposterous 2005.

The sign of three

It's a sign that I'm back in London.

In 8 days in Shropshire, I smoked fewer than 100 cigarettes. Back in London less than 24 hours, and allowing for 7 hours sleep in the middle, I have just taken off the cellophane and tapped my second packet. And it's not as if I've been out drinking either. I am going to have to rethink the methodology of sitting in front of a PC. The trouble is, if I designate my garret as a no-smoking area, there's only me to enforce the ban, and on my self, too. If it was that easy, I'd have stopped smoking years ago.

Another sign that I'm back is the fact that it was around 4am when I finally turned in. For some reason The Antiques Roadshow was more compulsive than sleep at 3am...

The third and final sign is the appearance of the seasonably ubiquitous mince pies for breakfast. Not something that I'd normally consider, but I have nothing in and am disappearing off for a couple of days again so mince pies it is. (Even I can't face the thought of Christmas cake for breakfast, but then there is next week...).

And so the oddly customised bohemian lifestyle continues.

Some would resolve to give up smoking, but I am wary of new year resolutions; it's hard to get excited over the fact that the clock has moved forward by a second and that I have put up a new calendar. So 10 years ago I resolved never to make a new new year's resolution. It's the only resolution I've ever kept.

I am off to Marlow shortly, so this will be the final entry for 2003.

If you're out tonight, have a good one. And let me be the very first to wish you a happy and preposterous 2005.