A weekend of mixed entertainments over, I'm now preparing for a brief excursion in a southerly direction. The amount of sleep I've enjoyed is a levels below which I'm capable of appearing sane in conversation - I had an argument with the ticket machine at the car park this morning.

I can't wake up in mornings. The only reason I woke up today was that my mind decided to help me. I could envision a recording studio. A man walked up to the microphone with a Gibson guitar (he was black) and played the intro to "Downtown (Skid Row)" from Little Shop of Horrors. Then he sang the lyrics:

Alarm, goes off at 7 and you...

And then I jolted awake, looked at the clock, swore and then got out of bed, to arrive at work in split seconds of late. The alarm had run for 2 hours and then given up by that point.

Yes, my own brain is using trivia from musicals to control me when all else has failed. Aaaagh.