A toilet door
Monday morning. My usual train cancelled, so was unable to work on poems this morning.
A bitty day at Keith's agency, and when not presenting concepts in a teleconference to a European client who sounded as if he wanted to hang himself, spent much of the afternoon trying to sort out a single headline for a campaign. Usually I have no trouble with headlines but this one emerged, as Keith observed, like someone passing a kidney stone.
Listening to The girl with the dragon tattoo, which is enjoyable. Not much to report otherwise, as it was a day which after yesterday's excitement, seemed rather mundane in comparison.
Below a sign to the gents at Keith's agency which has been stealthily customised, and makes me laugh.
Monday morning. My usual train cancelled, so was unable to work on poems this morning.
A bitty day at Keith's agency, and when not presenting concepts in a teleconference to a European client who sounded as if he wanted to hang himself, spent much of the afternoon trying to sort out a single headline for a campaign. Usually I have no trouble with headlines but this one emerged, as Keith observed, like someone passing a kidney stone.
Listening to The girl with the dragon tattoo, which is enjoyable. Not much to report otherwise, as it was a day which after yesterday's excitement, seemed rather mundane in comparison.
Below a sign to the gents at Keith's agency which has been stealthily customised, and makes me laugh.
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