under another sun

Up to the smoke again feeling very tired after an execrable night of non-sleep, and listening to poor Betty coughing like a docker in the next room. Took the walk around Fitzroy Square at lunchtime, and finished The Good Soldier which I thought was extremely well constructed and containing a rather bleak view of human relationships. A view perhaps not shared by the two men who were passionately kissing with gay abandon on one of the benches. Walked to Eat, and suddenly felt rather faint as I was ordering and for a good few moments worried that I might actually keel over. I soon recovered, but this added a dash of hypochondria to a day that was already far from one of my favourites. But this is the penultimate day at work so mustn't grumble, eh? Out of office at six like a greyhound with its tail on fire. This fire doused by a lorry driving over a pothole in the street, which sent a perfectly targeted arc of muddy water over me from head to toe. To Dean Street where I encountered...

Up, coldy and groggy at 6:50 and hurried off sans breakfast in the rain to catch the early train. I wanted to be in work early to finish off something I was working on Friday until my brain stopped. When I arrived all the freelancers accounts had been disconnected so I had to wait an hour before I could start. Lunchtime and went for a short walk circling around Fitzroy Square several times talking to Mum on my phone. Then walked down a street with fire engines in it, but nothing apparently happening. Otherwise not much to say about work other than I can't wait for it to effing stop. The trouble with wishing away the time, which I hate doing on principle and almost never do, is that time drags hatefully. Home early, spirits soaring as soon as I left work, and braved the rush hour tube to speed the journey up a bit. Rapidly coming to the end of Ford Maddox Ford's The Good Soldier . A chamber piece of four characters who, because of their characters, make each other unhappy an...

A bad night's sleep. Up early and off to London. Listening to To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf on the train, which slipped through fog and mist heading north. To the Lighthouse is sublime. A different seat again at work, and having settled down was moved on again. Placed in a corner which was fine. Feeling jaded and tired and rather isolated despite everyone being friendly. In an attempt to wake myself up and sauntered about near Fitzroy Square (where Woolf lived) taking some snaps, and bought a fairly nasty tuna roll from Sainsbury's.  Was so out of it, that I walked into a completely wrong building through a revolving door thinking it was where I was working. Where I am working doesn't even have a revolving door. Had to turn down some work this afternoon from my chums in Tavistock Square. Otherwise I went straight home after work, needing an early night and hopefully with a smidgen of sleeping thrown in too. Below  some typical agency bollocks (technical term...

So finally a smoother day. The train delayed this morning, naturally, but I made it into work only a bit late. Found myself relocated again, sitting next to Ana a designer I started on the same day with. Ana is from Mexico City and has eaten grasshoppers in Oaxaca too like I once did. Otherwise a day when I was briefed to write a newsletter report on an event, which obviously I did not attend. Piecing it together from various bits and pieces. Have been working on Schizophrenia this week, and it is an interesting area. One of the things featured at this event is a pod, into which you sit and have the opportunity to experience life as a schizophrenic, with visions and voices in your head. Lunch with Max, my erstwhile agency mentor and Julie from my old agency too. This was the highlight of my working week. We stole away to a pub restaurant and I ate a pie, chiefly attracted by the vegetables that went with it. The ladies having fish and chips. Great to see Max again, who I'd not ...