In between the black cats
Left with Lorraine this morning, who dropped me at Preston Park. Off to London, at an agency I had worked for before but it had now been amalgamated by another. A new building on me, the Art Deco former Carreras Cigarette factory by Mornington Crescent. I walked there from St Pancras, which was only ten minutes away, and joined the line of people filing into the building between the black cats. Rainy day. A pleasant building inside, and I was collected by Dave, a guy I knew vaguely, and found Keith, plus Noyala and Maurizio I already knew. Also met a writer called Ross, a friendly gordie guy, who said, I call my wife 'er indoors. Why? Because she looks like Jim Morrison... A vague brief and spent much of the day trying to work out what people wanted from me. They found myself presenting copy late in the afternoon. Off at lunchtime for a walk around the neighbourhood. Got out of the lift and almost fell over. I have a bit of an ear balance thing and the lift triggered it. Foun...