Its a tuesday evening and im bored to tears, so in order to bring balance to the world i am going to bore everyone who reads this, also to the point of tears.

I'm going to tell you all a story.
And as i regale you with this glorious tale you will sit in rapt silence paying nothing but your fullest attention, for there is a lesson to be learnt.

It begins at approximately two o'clock, early sunday morning, im lying in bed. Awake. Now already i imagine questions are running through your mind, "why is he still awake?" "why is he not out? vomiting in an alleyway, enjoying being 19 years old on a saturday night like he should be!?"
The answer is simple... and rather dull.
I had decided to attempt to get an early night. For once.
Ironically after several monotonous hours of trying to get to sleep and multiple episodes of "how i met your mother", i realised that it wasnt working. So what to do? I could try counting sheep, but sadly as we all know, this doesnt work. I could watch the film "Atonement" but i was afarid rather than making me so bored i would fall asleep, it would simply kill me.

Then in the answer came in the form of a bird singing outside. As i leaned out of my bedroom window to shout at the little b*****d for keeping me awake I noticed the sky outside had slowly begun to lighten, that clouds had formed into a dappled sheet of cotton wool balls....

The answer was so simple!
Why fight my bodys resolute desire to stay awake?
Why not make the most of this early morning energy and use it to my advantage, using what im usually far too apathetic to do?
As the glorious idea took hold of me i found myself rushing around in the semi darkness, dragging out camera, film, tripod and a whole stack of other unneccesary items. Within ten minutes i was out the door....

As i wandered along the local country roads with a literal skip in my step, humming along as Daughtry blasted out of my mp3 player i realised how fortunate i was to be out appreciating my surroundings, looking for the right location to dig in and waiting for the inevitable, stunningly beautiful light to illuminate the clouds, trees and gently flowing fields around me..

These feelings of elation and appreciation lasted all of half an hour, by which time i was slouched in a wet field, caked in mud, below the typical british sunrise. Grey, wet, and so unremarkable its almost laughable.

The lesson is, dont get out of bed. for anything. At least if your from West Yorkshire.

It was as i stumbled home that i had an epiphany. There should only be two people out of bed on a sunday morning. Those religious types who feel the need to leave a warm comfy bed, for the cold uncomfortable seats in a church, and those unfortunate people who lay comatose in a pool of their own sick with no recollection of what happened after that last irish carbomb they cannonballed just to prove they could drink more than the bloke who was sat next to them.....



Oh id also like to say thanks to everyone for favorites and comments, its always appreciated. And on a more personal note; Helen, if you read this, your a stalker. HA