“We are masters of the unsaid words, but slaves of those we let slip out”

"Some fools think of happiness
Blissfulness, togetherness
Some fools fool themselves I guess
Theyre not foolin' me"

Last night I again went to bed early, and despite all my travails, anxieties and perceived woes, slept - and slept.
However this was the sleep of the dog tired, rather than the sleep of the just.
It's been so busy at work, and I have worked so hard that I have been coming home drained. It seems insomnia will only get you so far!
There's a night out at work tomorrow, sadly it will involve wandering around the town centre on a Friday night, where even my advanced years will only drag the average age of my fellow patrons up to about 17, it's not for me, despite my co-workers (actually heartfelt) protestations. No as I sit here sipping my 'Jim Beam' I can think of only one night out I want to be on, and that was a long time ago now.
Oh here I go, maudlin, maudlin, maudlin. But in the period between the wars it's who I am (I think - I'm not sure anymore, I was a better person, for a while at least)...

“A prisoner of war is a man who tries to kill you and fails, and then asks you not to kill him.” - Winston Churchill