I'm not usually one to start yawning on about what dreams I had last night and what their significance or lack of, means. But when you wake in the middle of the night as I have just done, and you can remember lucidly most of your night's dreams and in all of them you end up starting an argument or fight in them, even to the point of shouting at children that you don't even know, then you know that you must be pretty stressed.
The difference between my life three months ago and now is striking and can e highlighted in the respective times that I took/take coffee down at the excellent, Do Lii Coffee. A few months ago Dominic or Claudia might see me roll in, bleary eyed at no earlier than One O' Clock for my morning coffee, and sometime it could be as late as half past three. These days, I can sometimes be waiting for him to open his doors at half seven.
Anyhow, the pub. What's going on ? Well apart from myself transforming from a sedentary sloth into a hyped stresshead once more, great progress has been made with the Bag of Nails, and problems have been solved, bypassed or mostly wallpapered over.
I wrote the above a few days ago and was rudely interrupted from my rambling by a call from some supplier or other telling me that they were outside my pub waiting for me and if I wouldn't mind could I get my ass down there ASAP so that he can continue with his daily work. Since then I have spent a total of one hour at my home, which mostly consists of rushing to put some soap on my face, and then digging deep into my many piles of junk to unearth some crucial piece of the jigsaw puzzle that make up my pub. I cannot write much more now as today is the big day, and my friend John and I have a full day of running around the city, tearing our hair out at the latest crisis. At five o clock today, we find out if we have a working pub or not. Wish me luck.