Spent much of the morning in bed. Quite how I managed to stay up until half two last night I don’t know. Had breakfast and lunch more or less back to back and spent what was left of the middle of the day ripping MP3s to take to the gym. The music channels seem to be hanging out with the clocks.

Paul came around after lunch and we drove out to Heybridge Basin to get blown around by the onshore breeze. We nearly had a nasty experience with a ditch and a make-do bridge that it turned out we didn’t need to cross anyway, and ended up calming our nerves in The Withy Cafe. The table-cloths were glued to the tables, no doubt to stop them blowing away (or being stolen).

I did us a tuna pasta bake for dinner and we sat curling our toes at Louis Theroux doing over Jimmy Saville. A classic piece of pseudo-journalistic synicism.

1. Dead
   So, Mark and I walk across town to this launch-come-dinner thingie in the court rooms just above Browns. It's about half six. There's the usual...
   
   
2. Riding
   I've had, but not touched, a book of London bike rides for far too long. So, today, I set out with James-Paul to cycle ride...
   
   
3. Riding through the floods (or not)
   I was late for work this morning. Why? Because the route I cycle to the station was flooded. It's been raining for days, and...