An old revolution
Off to Lorraine's place to wait for a glazier to arrive. He was two hours late, despite repeated phone calls. However this was good as, sans computer, I made a series of strategic mindmaps plotting timelines for the CD/record label launch, house move, literary next steps, poetic next steps, business next steps, banking next steps and so on. Sam arrived later to play on his powerful gaming computer, and we had a nice chat. After the glass man came, was berated, and left, I legged off to the computer mending people. These say they can't fix my hard drive and that it is making a funny noise and you can't access the data, which is exactly what I told them a week ago.
Also phoned by the agency who, unbelievably, cancelled the work for next week a second time, but offered me a day's work this week. Spent the afternoon feeling like I had lost a pound and found a sixpence, as the old folks used to say. Even more incredibly, on what is now the fifth decision, was called by the traffic person in the evening, to say next week is now back on. Treatment as a human ping-pong ball palling somewhat.
Popped into see Adrian and Di again, pouring over the black and white photos with Adrian, and getting lots of advice from Di about renting houses and so on.
In the evening met up with Richard, Dipak, and Steve and we walked up to the The London Unity, on the Hanover side of town, where The Shakespeare Trio were playing. And they played mightily well. It was organised by a pretty and persistent woman called Pelma (sp?) who persuaded me to get up and read some poems after Dipak told her I was a poet. I had nothing with me and so did Exorcism, which I made an ass of myself by memory glitching on. Later I remembered I had a blackberry and found two more online, including Revolution of the Eagles, which suddenly sounds quite contemporary again, and went down very well in the pub.
Enjoyable night all round, after what had mostly been a stressful day. However have reconnected with some old writing pals on facebook, which is good.
And so to bed.
Off to Lorraine's place to wait for a glazier to arrive. He was two hours late, despite repeated phone calls. However this was good as, sans computer, I made a series of strategic mindmaps plotting timelines for the CD/record label launch, house move, literary next steps, poetic next steps, business next steps, banking next steps and so on. Sam arrived later to play on his powerful gaming computer, and we had a nice chat. After the glass man came, was berated, and left, I legged off to the computer mending people. These say they can't fix my hard drive and that it is making a funny noise and you can't access the data, which is exactly what I told them a week ago.
Also phoned by the agency who, unbelievably, cancelled the work for next week a second time, but offered me a day's work this week. Spent the afternoon feeling like I had lost a pound and found a sixpence, as the old folks used to say. Even more incredibly, on what is now the fifth decision, was called by the traffic person in the evening, to say next week is now back on. Treatment as a human ping-pong ball palling somewhat.
Popped into see Adrian and Di again, pouring over the black and white photos with Adrian, and getting lots of advice from Di about renting houses and so on.
In the evening met up with Richard, Dipak, and Steve and we walked up to the The London Unity, on the Hanover side of town, where The Shakespeare Trio were playing. And they played mightily well. It was organised by a pretty and persistent woman called Pelma (sp?) who persuaded me to get up and read some poems after Dipak told her I was a poet. I had nothing with me and so did Exorcism, which I made an ass of myself by memory glitching on. Later I remembered I had a blackberry and found two more online, including Revolution of the Eagles, which suddenly sounds quite contemporary again, and went down very well in the pub.
Enjoyable night all round, after what had mostly been a stressful day. However have reconnected with some old writing pals on facebook, which is good.
And so to bed.
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