Pergatorio

It's 130 in the morning and I'm a very long way from home.

I'm heading North through Luton and Harpenden with my brand new denim jacket. Luton's probably a bad idea, given that I live in Cricklewood, but I'd rather head at high speed in the wrong direction than spend 2 hours at St Albans waiting for a train. It's really cold, you see.

Dante said that Pergatory wasn't about feeling pleasure or pain, but the sheer absence of both. Apparently that combination, if experienced for long enough, was enough to absolve any sinner. If he'd sat out on St AIbans Station for an hour, he might just have understood.

I'm still heading at speed in the wrong direction. And I found the jacket abandoned on a staircase. Now I'm implausibly stuck in Luton trying to get home.

l think I'll make it sooner or later. But I definitely think that when faced with that dilemna between going out on a Friday night or, just once in a while, staying in and watching some tv, I should stay in sometimes.

l need to get home. I'm really cold....