In The Arms Of Sleep

And another one of them days. It's reached the point that when I'm dropping off to sleep, I start to dream that I'm working again. Not a new experience, but it usually comes as a warning sign that my brain's considering industrial action. If there's one thing you don't need, it's your mind going on strike; all of your major blood vessels get picketed, you're reduced to a dribbling wreck, and from then on the only employment you can really hope for is being an ITV presenter.

However, tomorrow I'm revelling in the three greatest words in the English language: DAY OFF WORK. Listen to the miserable but entertaining ramblings of the Smashing Pumpkins, and revel with me.