I worked with Amelia on the bar last night. It wasn’t particularly busy but by eleven o’ clock I was more than ready to pack up and go to bed. ‘The Waterboys’ were in drinking ale in the public bar. Everything was cleaned, closed and locked by eleven, but still they sat there. I felt little remorse for kicking them out and denying them one last half pint while Amelia was walked up the unlit street back home. I was downstairs at seven firing up the stoves and grill. I messed up the breakfast by burning the bacon and making poached egg soup, so by the time Chris arrived, I was still in the kitchen, remaking the residences breakfast.
It’s raining again. I’m toying with the idea of going to Henley but all I feel inclined to do is read more ‘Catcher in the Rye’. I’m not feeling very motivated work-wise. I’ve given my notice and now I’m keen to reach the set date. I feel like I’m losing patience fast. At least, the next two weeks will be easier. I so get Holden Caulfield! Only, I've said it before, I'm too old for this teenage angst thing. Still, I'm totally identifying with his annoyance with the 'phonies'. Man, but I'm getting that.