Friday Morning

Getting out of the taxi I forget how to use my hands and I take a while to pick up my bag and my folder and my sunglasses, which I quickly put on because the sun hurts my bloodshot eyes. My long shadow is cast in front of me and my arm looks too long and I hope it's just the shadow and not what my arm really looks like to other people. I'm hungover in a dazed and confused and obvious way, I catch my gaunt reflection in the glass door and my hair is way too long now and bits are sticking up but not in a cool fashionable way.

Walking into the staffroom I leave my sunglasses on, maybe limping a little and I feel like Tom Cruise in Jerry Maguire - the "I am cloaked in failure" airport scene - and that's what I hope I look like to other people. It's only 8:15 but I start thinking for the second time today about AKB48 and the importance of them always appearing young and innocent.

Sitting down and thinking about AKB48 even more and I've almost figured everything out but Commentary Sensei starts doing his running commentary on everything he is doing and he is mumbling once again about the printer not working and it makes me so furious that I can't think about anything. I just go to the toilet and make myself sick even though it's a peasant toilet and now my hands and knees are covered in sick and other men's faeces.