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Elements of the past

My memory is becoming increasingly unreliable. as a result, Coastalblog earns yet another pupose: to recall moments that I may forget, shortly.

The night before my last ever day working at the Job Centre, knowing I was gone therefore not caring. The three hour walk back from Roger's in Halsall. Trying to phone work to say I ouldn't make it, no-one answering. Running, improbably, into my mate Adam, who was cycling to work as I walked home from the night before. The look of incredulity on his face as he ran into me in the middle of nowhere. Staggering into Ormskirk and buying a pie from Hampson's cos I was starving. The sure knowledge tha I am never likely to live a life wherein I walk seven miles home in the bright bright morning just because I feel like it ever ever again.

I regret that I do not remember the precise nature of the pie but I think it was steak.

A fumbled kiss in the doorway of the maternity ward of Ormskirk hospital with a girl I really shouldn't have the night Paul and I DJ'd the indie night (featuring Republica!) before going back to a sea of concerned faces. Ho ho, if only they knew etc etc.

Me and Jim puching hay bales up a slope, stone cold sober at about five in the morning. I recall the hay was damp.

Think of this post as a battle-cry, a last gasp of something. I want more random instances like these, they may not seem overly important, but, for some reason, they mean a hell of a lot to me.

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