I’m drinking far too much coffee at the moment. It’s a habit that’s only come into being over the past few months. I’m generally quite health-conscious: I’m a pescatarian that avoids milk and eats very little dairy produce (that’s right: I’m a barrel of laughs) – and at home I’ll generally opt for caffeine-free drinks such as redbush and camomile tea. I used to have one cup of coffee a day at most. It's worth clarifying that I’m not completely clean-cut: once a week I pop down to my local duck pond and punch a swan, just to redress the balance. Everyone’s got to have a vice. This blog is part of the root of the problem: this is my fortieth consecutive post in so many days (dickhead) – and the vast majority of these have been written whilst sat in my favourite local coffee shop. If I’ve got nothing else on (diary-wise, not clothing), I’ll arrive mid-morning, and try to knock something up in a hour at most. (Pos...
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