Imaginary iron
A day in London. On the train I was gripped by the idea that I had left my iron on, and ended up having to ask Anton to go around to my house to check. I wasn't. Some kind of subconscious desire to return home manifesting itself probably. Still, it allowed Anton to reclaim his turntable which, much to his disgust, I hardly use.
At my old agency got to work Sean again for a last day of neuropathic pain. The new creative director said his client had told him that it was the best creative presentation they'd ever seen, this as much to do with his presentation as the work probably, but at least a nice bit of feedback.
The day spent squeezing blood from the stone of the same brief. We seem to set each other off somewhat, laughing hysterically as we trudged on with the same brief. I took a short walk at lunch along the misty river at lunchtime. Spent the day coming up with really complicated ideas, and in the end did two really simple ones.
Towards the end...