Welcome to Mars, it's open all hours

Bad thing: waking up in the certain knowledge that if you even think about moving your calf, it's going to cramp up lovely. And then moving it in an odd way anyway, so as to get maximum enjoyment from lurching up and trying to massage some sense into the thing.

You know, I begin to think that my brain re-ordered that sequence of events. Like the way you can have a subjectively long dream that climaxes with the alarm going off, when what must have happened is that your subconscious shat some alleged-rational explanation into your forebrain in sheer terror at the loud noise that just happened.

Good thing(s): The sun's out, the sky's intense, it wasn't as parky on the ride in this AM as it was yesterday and I have Pere Ubu's 'Waiting for Mary' stuck in my head.

As far as I know, 'Cloudland' wasn't well-received by the purists because there's a veneer of shiny pop over the atonal skronk and unhinged lyrics. I rather care for the LP. Indeed I rather wish I'd got a copy of that particular track on the work computer, instead of it lurking unreachable on the Winders box at home. (That was a probably futile hint)