A Day of Slight August Fever

Heavy hanging heat. Humid weight. it still doesn't feel quite like summer though. The call centre passes by quickly today. Ridiculously busy. Too many coffees leading to a somewhat manic temperament. The sea outside the window. A dream-like calm, as if the water is made out of treacle, or some other unreal liquid. A boat floats on the wave-less seas. Stuck in the hallucinogenic Sargosso Sea off the coast, choked by no tides and not seaweed. The hallway by the lifts at work smells like a jungle, some greenhouse environment. In one of the toilet stalls at work, I hear a scratching actually in the wall next to me, as if there is a mouse or a rat moving about.
In the Pound Shop on the way home buying shampoo, I notice the place is littered with scattered items; tins of food, deodorants, bits of rubbish, that everyone about me seem to be oddly Mexican. I imagine I am in some shop in Mexico. Lost my way to Ciudad Juarez on the way home... I buy 'Never Let Me Go' from CEX on Western Road, but then have to return it as they give me the wrong disc. I have, instead 'This Is Number 4' or something. There is no apology, not even an acknowledgement that a mistake has been made. I don't think they even said a word when I returned. Just sort of grunted. Strange.
A quick cup of tea, tidy the bedsit, then off to meet Em down at the beach.