To sleep, perchance to carry on sleeping

Not meWhy is it, when one oversleeps and only wakes up 15 minutes before he needs to leave to get to work, that the first and strongest impulse is to turn over. I was quite fully awake (I should be, having maybe an hour and a half extra sleep than usual), and well aware that I needed to get up, but while the mind was willing, the flesh was most certainly weak.

All things considered, I think I did well to drag myself out of bed; to both clean my face and my teeth; to dress in non-ridiculous clothes; to compose myself enough to pack my bag and leave in not-too-late style.

Of course, breakfast was one luxury too far, so I stumbled into Dom Vito’s on Kingsway to a wave of nostalgia. I’d never been in here before; but the foam-free cappucino, the standard-template chocolate croissants, the tastefully-smoothed trays of seafood mix, tuna mayonnaise, chicken supreme. I didn’t notice, but I’ll bet there was some chicken escalopes somewhere under the counter. In my mind the dulcet tones of Delores and Jose sung out, Jose’s scat versions of popular songs in particular. Hornsey Road’s finest Spanish deli was a place of great delight at my last job, and this morning was one of the few genuinely nostalgic moments I’ve had for Holloway Road since starting at this new gig.

That said, it passed pretty swiftly.

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