Army Dreamers
Mood:  rushed
Now Playing: Wake Up To Wogan
Bloody early morning calls, I hate them, even more so when it's dark outside. Now being in the line of work I once was, you'd think I was used to obscure hours. After all stakeouts of Arabs and anyone else we didn't like was all par for the course. Honestly though, pissing into an old orange juice carton sort of loses its appeal after a while, especially when you nod off and forget you did it, it certainly wakes you up when you go to take a swig. Luckily though, being top of my class meant that I got to work the day shift most of the time, and when I clocked off at 5 pm I could go and party with the likes of Sophia Loren, Kirk Douglas and Carlos The Jackal.
Anyway, this morning feels like one of those boring stakeouts. Some bastard has obviously done something to my phone and it keeps ringing every 30 seconds. When I answer it I get the bleep of a fax machine. Why don't I turn it off you may ask? Well I'm on 24 hour call, not only with the Hospital, but with the UN as well, and I'd never hear the end of it if I missed a call.
That's why I'm typing so f**king early. I'm awake now and as alert as a cat, plus it gives me something to do while the phone keeps ringing. I can't wait to get to work and get away from the thing, but one thing's for sure, as soon as I get a chance I'll be on to the Mossad telecom department so they can track down the wanker who is doing this to me. They'll be very sorry I can tell you, if you see some dodgy looking black cars parked in your street you'll know I'm onto you.

Shalom