I went to an interview type thing today. This involved wearing something that isn’t a sweatshirt and getting on the bus. Now, regular readers will know that I am newish to this city. And not the best with directions. I travel with people so I don’t get lost. I choose not to get lost. I choose to have a PA, or Sarge, with me when I don’t know where I’m going, or even when I do. I do go places…
I have cold, and can’t really sleep lying down. I don’t make a very good sick person, and like to sleep when I know I’m not missing anything. I also remember all my dreams and feel sad if I don’t get to have any. On Sunday night, I couldn’t sleep at all. As the pillows crept further and further up the headboard, I knew this was a battle I would not win. I reached for the toilet roll I’d been…
The alarm clock is tuned to BBC Radio 4. If I hear one more feature on benefit cuts, taxes, the Government, or even cricket, I think I may actually throw the radio out the window. This is not the kind of stuff I want to wake up to in the morning. Especially considering I live it. I see the outcome of benefits and benefit cuts every time I look my bank balance. I am on benefits. They have their place. …
On Friday, I listened to this and this, which made me want to start watching his actual stuff. Sarge has both of Werner Herzog’s box sets, and he’s wanted me to get into his films for ages. It can be said that every night is film night in this house. Films and booze. Friday film nights are special because they include not having to get up the next morning, and therefore, more booze. We sat down with My Best Fiend. …
I spent all day Saturday looking for a particular piece I wrote on September 11th, 2001. I couldn’t find it, but in the search I found all my old journals and other writing that goes back pretty far. Some things are the same. A lot is different. I want to give that kid/younger twenty-something a hug, and tell her to stop worrying. We’re not in Back to the Future, so I can’t. But I can do this: Dear you, Relax. …
