Saturday Morning Run

This used to be a ritual when I used to work.  Up early (well by 9am) and a 40 minute jog.  Now its an effort.  Still can't turn to seed. So on come the trainers.

I scan the faces I jog past.  Try to scrutinise them.  Who is in my position?  Can they tell?  That I am not one of the them.  That I am a fraud amongst the land of the living workers.

Maybe by the fact that I have not shaved for a week now tells strangers all the need to know.  One of my mate's tells me its fetching in a Clooney sort of way.