displacure

The wingpiglet was successfully persuaded to stop grumbling and go back to sleep in his cot last night at about half-past three, though still contrived to make me late for a morning social event I'd attempted to be organised enough to leave early for by having made me disable my two earliest alarms during previous night-disruptions earlier this week. He also had to be manually awakened sometime just after seven, which is almost unheard-of.

When I was taking this a gentleman wearing a bicycle-hat who'd just unlocked further up the road asked me what had happened to my bike as he passed. I think I managed to explain through my snot-clogged airtubes that it wasn't my bike but that I had just chanced upon it and thought it an interesting example.