A slight unease

A sense of unease this morning. A dream about being in a room with a weirdly magnificent David Bowie. I had a camera I was about to photograph him, but it repeatedly jammed when I was about to snap him, and then he disappeared. As I woke up I had the title of one of his songs, Fame in my head. Not hard to interpret. Attempts to become well known are constantly frustrated and self sabotaged. It was connected to feeling a bit moody about the writing in general, and wondering if featuring myself in the latest podcast was in some way jumping the shark. 

Eent into town with Lorraine, toward in the Lanes Eatery cafe for a coffee and sparkling water for a change of scenery. Working on what seemed like a promising idea, but became distracted by those nearby: two women talking loudly and protractedly about heart attacks on one side, and on the other a couple reading inflammatory bits from the Daily Mail to each other. Then (and I think unconnectedly) a sudden appalling surge in the nether regions and just made it into the loo. All day I had an unquiet GI tract, and nobody wants that.

Collected Lorraine from the Library, where she had just done Story Time. Lovely to see her in her element talking to lots of little nippers who had all come in from a local nursery. Home and I lurked upstairs in my office trying to make sense of the stuff I'd written in the cafe. Lorraine downstairs chatting with her pal Helen. We all had lunch together sitting outside with Brian the cat sitting hopefully next to Helen.

In the evening, me feeling a tad lifeless and wan, we watched, the opening ceremony for the Olympics. A right old smorgasbord of oddities conducted along the Seine, with the rain hosing it down and everything looking a bit random and very damp. Must have been galling for them (arf).