Monday, 17th February 1997
Strange really, got an early night, woke up just before the alarm fully awake and rested, bounded in and out of the shower etc. and all bright and breezy until about five minutes before I entering the building and now I feel like I've just been dropped off by George Best and Petula Clark after a night of continuous cheap lager and a marathon showing of "Heimat". Bit tired, confused, and vaguely post-bored. So there you go, excuse me If I ramble on a bit.
How was your weekend? No please, tell me, I have to know EXACTLY what you did to keep my surveillance dossiers up to date; the net link with the cameras went down Saturday 2.15pm for some reason, and the listening devices in your cars/bedrooms/jackets all decided to go on the fritz at different times from Friday, so don't spare the detail or I'll have the Agency on my back for crimes of omission. And don't pull that face: it's not easy being a spy, y'know.
What's your favourite biscuit? Mine's original Hob Nobs.
When I click my fingers, you will wake.
B
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