Another day of fuck all. Sitting in my living room, the Blind Eye. Feeling lethargic, un-talkative, tired. Only ate some crisps so far today, should get something else. I’ll survive. I don’t think I can say I am truly homeless when there are parents in England and 1890 crowns in my pocket but this is still a pretty low ebb. A lot of people are to be thanked for taking care of me this past few weeks, though I don’t always feel as grateful as I should. Yesterday I was still tired and wired from Wednesday and attempted to sleep on a sofa in the disused back room of the Blind Eye, crashing and burning on free alcohol acquired too early from dumb English tourists. Michelle had taken my place already and I was forced to nap on the chair nearby.
Later, after a herna bar and a long tram ride I made it back to Chrissy’s place for a further ten hours kip. Sleep is to be taken wherever it is free, ditto food. I must economise.