Synaesthesia is bad today. Here I sit, checking through images of textile sculptures and battling intense cravings for porridge and milky bars, brought on by the voices of my colleagues.

This is probably due to the fact I am hung-over to the teeth, having whiled away last night cosy & chatty in a beery, smoky booth at the Angel with Richie Roo. Excellent way to spend a Monday evening.

Beep-beep.