Ramble, ramble

St John's Wood is the only one of 274 London Underground stations to contain none of the letters of the word 'mackerel'.

In the 1950s Jericho was a red light district and the Phoenix was a pornography cinema.

35-40% of all household waste which ends up in a landfill begins life as a purchase from one of the big five supermarkets.

I might have a rant soon. Can't decide.

Sleepy. Have spent all evening reading articles on Wikipedia and anti-supermarket websites in an attempt to keep myself awake until the boy comes back from work and we can watch the next episode of 24. ("Can you call in sick? I want to find out what happens.") It's that bizarre self-delusion thing again, where for some reason, even though you know you can't possibly watch the entire series at once, just seeing the next one would help, whereas in reality the cliffhanger at the end of that will just leave you with another insatiable itch to dive further into the story...

Circle. Vicious.

One more week left at work. It's been fun but I think any longer would probably kill me. There was a moment last week where I was so tired I came home and collapsed on the sofa, rousing only when coaxed by the boy to eat some dinner.

I want an MP3 player but there are so many and they're all so shiny and gadgetty that I get flustered and confused whenever I look at them. Humph.