What the Fairies Find, they Take Away

Despite not getting to sleep, thanks to a sudden bout of unexpected indigestion, until 2 or 3 am last - deep in the ox hours - I find myself awake and sat on my sofa at the ridiculously early time of 9:30, having already written today's entry into the dream diary. (Hmm. That was a very long sentence. Oh well). What on earth am I going to do now? Being up early is excellent when you have lots of things to do, but life is going through a very quiet phase recently. Looking out of the window, it seems a bit too cold to sit on the beach. Go for a walk? Buy an album? Look for my fucking prescription again? (After last week's glee at asking the fairies to help me find my lost prescription again, and this working, I neglected to remember in what 'safe place' I then put it, and am now convinced I have thrown it away, and will have to face the doctors receptionists on Monday morning...)
I can hear a wood pigeon, no doubt from nearby St Anns's Well garden, which isn't helping this curious mood I'm in. Makes me long for... some fragment of my past. Worcester? Worcester probably... I'd like to be able to spend the weekend in Worcester, looking round the old places, wandering down by the river, listening to the wind through trees-
Trees! I need trees! Unfortunately I live in Brighton which is relatively treeless. No woods around here alas. Still, there is St Anne's Well Park, so I think a shower, a walk into town (maybe) and then check out St Anne's Well Park in search of some inspiration.
Lost prescription be damned.