Under cover of quantum

Sunday November 18, 2007

This is a truly horrid day. Rain on the windows. Heavy black sky. The estate deserted, awash in a sea of black tarmac. All it needs is a crash of thunder and the entrance, stage left, of a preturnaturally large lady clad in walkyrie garb and our Neibelung would be complete.

No matter. I just spoke to Graham. He’s having toast. I told him I had my toast at 05:30, with eggs and tomato and he remarked that it’s no wonder I keep putting on weight.

“I do think about food an awful lot of the time when I’m here on my own,” I said.

“Well there you are, then. Proves it, that does. It’s quantum.”

“Dunno about quantum. I think it may have something to do with boredom.”

“Does boredom have quarks?”

“I think it’s more a matter of quarks having boredom. If they can have charm I don’t see why they can’t have boredom.”

“You’re making excuses again, trying to cover the argument with confusion. Stop wriggling.”

“Okay. You’re right. I shall have fruit and dry bread for elevenses. Will you be home for lunch?”

“Don’t know yet. I’ll phone you later.”