"Cold water on the face - brings you back to this awful place..." [Duggie's quoting The Clash]
There's something about the weather turning colder that makes you wanna stay in bed. [isn't that obvious?] I'm flinching before splashing my face from the cold tap. Makes me feel crap, it really does.
"Ring, Ring, 7am".
"Cold water in the face."
"Must get up and learn those rules..."
[it's The Clash again, those lyrics, rolling round and round his head]
All I can see outside the window is a blurred blackness. And I can hear the rain on the conservatory roof - frozen peas falling on to a tin.
It's ok when I'm out the door, on the way to the train. But it's just kick-starting the body that's the issue, here.
Stuff it, I am going back to bed. [Duggie hasn't taken many sick days this year. One of his mates used to put his sick days in his diary - in advance. Therefore, Duggie's got to be owed one or two himself, hasn't he?]
Yeah. I deserve it. A lie-in. It's Tuesday, so they won't think I'm recovering from the weekend. Anyway, I had a good day yesterday, got a lot done.
Yeah. I'll call 'em.
I'll email them. That way I don't have to put on a funny voice. Maybe I'll say that I've lost my voice, that's why I'm not phoning-in.
"It's no good for man to work in cages" - that bloody song again! It's called The Magnificent Seven, if you didn't already know, from 'Sandinista', The Clash's sprawling 3LP set. Can't get it out of my head on days like these.
By the way, I know some of you out there [Duggie taps an imaginary screen in front of his eyes] think I'm a nerd. Like we - that's me and me mate - are something out of a laddish novel, or a film. Typical, saddo, 40- something, past-it, whatever-else-you-want-to-add, nerdy, geeky types.
Well, you just come 'ere and say that! We're real! It's Me (that's me mate) and Duggie Chop!
We talk about music. So what! Just wait until this story really begins.
I mean, life is a story isn't it?
The only difference between your lives and ours, is that ours are kind of planned in advance.
Maybe yours are, too? I dunno, I'm no philospher. [Duggie gets under his duvet, with his lap top, ready to email work]. What I do know it this: you've gotta trust Steve Hill and you've got to believe in his set up, what's it called? 'The Mint-Tree of Words'. I mean, it's given Duggie and friend a chance (that's us, by the way). A hope for the future.
And that's more than a lot of 40-someting blokes have got, I can tell you.
[Duggie's turned away now, and he's tapping into his computer. I think we'd better leave him now].