The perks of Friday evenings

Waking up the next morning and realising you don't have work, rolling around on a bedroom floor looking for your phone - struggling to put your shoes on by the doorstep, smelling your Fred Perry garments and the pungent fragrance of smoke, curry and booze hitting your sinuses like a hammer. Staggering down Long Cross Lane with the crisp morning air dampening your headache as melodic tunes play through the headphones hanging over your collar, Mr. Turner whispering words in your ear, making you smile as the morning joggers run past. Absolute bliss.