In 4 hours, I'll be lining up outside Endemol studios - the place where Big Brother is filmed. There will be some Livejournal people with me, but also fans of the show from across the country. Some of them will amuse me with their chants of "Vote for Nadia" or "Save Dan!". Others will repel me in their Klingonesque desire to dress up as the house characters, or the way their voices will be raised as they argue with someone else about who should win the show.
If I knew what was the meaning of schadenfreude, I'd say I was experiencing it.
Before I head over to King's Cross station, I'm meeting Kevin for a beer. The weather is muggy and overcast in London - there has been some threat of rain. My mind keeps travelling forward, to the cameras, the screaming hordes, the incomprehension of standing outside a metallic fort where people are imprisonmed for our amusement. If I say too much now I won't have anything to tell tomorrow.
The clock at work is almost running backwards - even the machines are bored.
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