Why get up?

The stars will be fading in the freeze-dried dawn, as skin-and-bone dogs pick through rubble for something to eat, the mosques’ Tannoys summon the devout and bundles by the side of the road solidify into last night’s crop of dead bodies.

Friday is supposed to be for writing, but the weather’s fine today and the weekend forecast is awful. Amber warning.

So, I dig a trench around the house for the power cable. And excavate a base for the heat pump. I start levelling with sand, but adjourn when I discover that lumps of it are frozen.

I’m supposed to be on a works night out, but I’m not feeling up to it. And someone called Rick has booked a sales call at 9pm - from Wisconsin.

I duck across to Kinghorn, make the call, and try and watch a movie on Hamish’s Netflix. So many awful movies.