My weekend begins on Friday, so we’ll start there. I woke up and asked Sarge to make me a coffee. I did so nicely. ‘Can’t (the PA) do it?’ ‘She doesn’t make coffee,’ I said. ‘She pours water into ugliness.’ ‘Fair enough’, he said, turning on the coffee machine. For the rest of the day I scribbled and read, scribbled some more and thought about organising my dresser-drawers. I opened them, and quickly shut them again. A story for another…
I’ve decided that the only way to get a more random selection of songs than my version of this list is to ask me what song is playing in my head at any given time. Don’t worry, I won’t make a series out of that trunk of tenuous connections. I associate this beautiful song with a very ugly, but appropriate to the song time in my life. To this day when I find it on, I must skip it, turn…
My quietude may be attributed to: A. Getting old(er). 2. Going gallivanting, and being out of range. iii. Getting a job. I now work to make the world a more accessible place. Yes, really. Or a mixture of all three. Yes, I know 30 is not old. I like being 30, it suits me. Although, I did recently have to write ‘I’m 30’ for the first time. I’d never seen it before. I wrote it, and I said: ‘Holy shit,…
