I thought jet lag had passed me by, after two days of normal bedtimes and normal up-times. Until today. Wide awake at 4am. Doing the shopping at Tesco's at 7am. At the chemist's for an antidote to Immodium at 9am.
And now I'm knackered.
The last time I was in Tesco's at an ungodly hour, there was a policeman standing in front of the banana section. I don't think it was official business. He seemed to want to buy a banana. But he picked up one, then another, then another and still didn't select one. I believe that's called wasting police time.
The news today is that police forces aren't doing enough to prosecute rape cases. No shit. A 5% conviction rate, down from 25% 20 years ago? It's a disgrace. The man in the news is Commander John Yates, who I interviewed a few years ago for a piece I wrote about gang rape. Some PR said to me, “he's tipped for the top.” She was right. He was smarmily word-perfect, a master of obfuscating denial and he wore his trousers rather high up his waistline. If he gets Lord Levy though, he can wear his trousers where he damn well likes. If he sorts out the rape conviction rate, he can wear a skirt. Not a short skirt though, because 33% of people think that means he'll be asking for it. After reading that statistic, I'm no longer surprised at the morons on the jury in the rape trial I attended. Not least the one wearing the FCUK sweatshirt in a trial involving the alleged gang rape of two schoolgirls. Compared to the average opinion expressed in the Amnesty survey, the FCUK idiot is the epitome of sensitivity.