From inside the shell

Sluggish and aching. The usual Feb/March antisocial desire to pull all my tentacles back into my shell like an ancient ammonite. Not a good day for work, my already patchy concentration disrupted by waiting for a man to measure up for carpets complicated by the doorbell not working, and various other things. Plus a bogus call from a 'Windows Help Desk' followed a minute later my windows unexpectedly crashing, which made me run various paranoid checks on the computer for malware. Just a coincidence, apparently. The carpet man arrived at five to five and was helped by a curious Brian to measure the stairs. Incidentally, Lorraine changed Brian's name at the Top Cats vets the other day. So he is officially Brian Kenny, step-brother to Calliope Kenny.

Lorraine sucked into an Ofsted, so was late home and had to work on the sofa. Healthy fish and steamed veggies tonight. The Sheltering Sky full of a compelling anxiety and tension. Contacted by someone in Brighton tonight about writing for a fringe theatre production too. We'll see.