On the train to East Midlands Parkway. One of those eco-stations that look as though the architect's inspiration has been the contents of a child's construction kit. It's a sunny morning and the clear pale sky grades to milk at the horizon. On my way to a meeting and the carriage is full of the chatter of people on business. There is a woman somwhere behind me talking to a north American about farming. I'm still tired and a little subdued. I don't really see the point of some of this. The voice behind me cuts through the softer babble permeating the carriage. It's starting to become intrusive in that I can't quite pick up all that is being said but I'm hearing enough to piece together a kind of conversational jigsaw. It's too much like hard work and there is a level of anecdotal first person reference which is banal and tiresome. I should turn my attention to something else in my quest to log a tiresome first person blog. Har har.
I feel like just closing my eyes.