On yet another long ninety minute commute to work at six in the morning I turned to the lunchbox sitting beside me and said, "we've done this for 30 years, you and me ... at least you've graduated from a brown paper bag to a lunch box ... me? ... I'm just the same old dusty working stiff I've always been that would rather be making music ... this is so predictable".
I felt like a nothing and thought of my lovely Julia at home: "...she's something ... I'm nothing ... but she's something".
Ate my lunch before it had a chance to say a word.