He wakes up. He is late. He does not shower and he uses air freshener instead of deodorant under his arms on purpose because he has no deodorant but he smells like a homeless person so he thinks that the smell of summer fruits is better than the stench of almost death. Syria is being brutalised, Davy Jones died and Putin is going to win his election but all he cares about is that he has a sandwich for lunch that he made himself and it doesn’t taste as bad as he feared it would taste. He is rude to several people during the day but only realises that he was rude after each event as he mulls over his interactions in his mind. He feels bad about his rudeness but there is very little he can do and he fears that it is just now in his nature. He does not feel the joy of living today. He sleeps.