Booze, Trying

It's been a rather trying day. This morning I went for a run (5 miles of hard interval work) and then, at home, sat around stark naked, running procedures on a computer. It's an unexpected luxury in Singapore, that despite the generally Victorian attitudes, the tropical weather means that working without clothes is rather practical.

Still, I had to put on trousers eventually, not least because I had a meeting at Google's Singapore offices, where I drank the sort of coffee where initially you wake up, but two hours later the world has come to an abrupt halt and you search in vain for a rock to hide your head behind.

After that, I still had five hours of work in which to demontrate some competence, before shuffling home.

Sadly, homewards bounding was interrupted by drunks in a bar in Orchard Road, although I did get the handy advice to commence a new career, providing advice on how much different HR infractions might catch you.

It doesn't sound so great, but wait until you're being chased through the sewers of London.*

I passed out shortly afterwards. It must have been the beer. Or the sleep deprivation. Or the gin.

* Looking at this with a cold, sober eye, I've no idea what I was talking about. Given that I managed to type that entry up before I went to sleep, I'm also not sure how I correctly judged that I'd pass out. How odd.