This could be summer and I rather like it. There's something splendid about a life that requires me to sit at home, with the cat, typing into the void, occasionally going shopping, or, as with this morning, waking up and being startled to find I'm in another country.
Well, okay, Wales. But still. It was a shock. Especially when I realised I was in Whitchurch. It's a suburb of Cardiff I've never been to before. And it's really suburban. Which doesn't help when staggering around it at 1am with no idea of where you are supposed to be staying.
What does help at these alarming moments is that there's an extra brain programme that suddenly boots up and says "If you find the flat, you can have another little drink and a smoke and check over the day's work and then you can sleep."
Which would also explain why I woke up at a bit later to find that I'd passed out on a balcony with my laptop covered in ash but still balanced on my legs.