hopeful"'Don't know--may be anything. But I suspect it is the sequel of the story of the statues. In that case our friend, the image-breaker, has begun operations in another quarter of London. There's coffee on the table, Watson, and I have a cab at the door.'"
And I thought, what a great way to start the day. To wake up in a cosy, Victorian flat in London where my only occupation is to follow Sherlock Holmes around (for Watson sold his practise in The Adventure of the Empty House). And to find that coffee's ready for me already, and after that, it's off to adventure as my good friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes does almost all of the real work. I mean, could life get any sweeter than that?
So yes. That's who I should like to be; Dr. John Watson.
...
Feeling a little sticky-eyed to-day. I think I shall go job hunting or something. I shall definitely spray at the ants a bit. That's always fun. If only the little guys were edible.
Tomorrow Trisa and I are supposed to go and see Morrissey in concert. I'm pretty well looking forward to it, especially as I've more or less decided to model my life after Morrissey, and adopt a somewhat convenient vow of celibacy (It's not because I'm a loser. It's because I have convictions. Ha).
Come to think of it, Dr. Watson seems to have been pretty chaste after his wife died . . . hm . . . Although I haven't read all the Sherlock Holmes stories yet . . . still . . . I can't imagine Watson re-marrying . . .
