under another sun

Another deluge. The train slithering to London Bridge, and I got off amid lost tourists looking at maps. Claustrophobic Northern line to Tavistock Square and the day spent working on a pitch with Pat and Keith and a few others.   Then back to Kings Cross and down the tunnels to the Northern Line. The platform was crowded and when there was some kind of accident and cries from the other end of the platform,  my claustrophobia kicked in and I had to find another way home. Home to a plated up roast dinner, however, and in time to kiss Betty goodbye before she set off for college. Lorraine at home having been thinking about job applications which had driven her to sip wine in a slightly dismal way.  Even inviting her to watch Chelsea beat QPR 6-1 on match of the day didn't entirely do the trick. And so to bed.

The undead Mercifully bite-free night. Off to the smoke. A fairly chilled day, and my stock is high with this agency, as the work I did for them won them a big pitch last week. Went to the nearby Plum cafe with Keith and another guy at lunch, and bumped into Alice and Helen and was kissed by both. Found myself having an exotic lamburger and a coke. Felt all north American. Afternoon ditto to the morning, but working with Keith which is always fun. Spent some time searching for photographs of cityscapes until my eyes bled. Home at last, and cooked some grub and sat on the gold sofa and saw a flea jump onto my trousers like some awful wer-flea or flea zombie. Cue another bout of spraying and laundry. Meanwhile, Calliope is subdued and sleepy. I'm wondering if the new anti flea drops have affected her. It's all a bit of a nightmare, skin crawling tonight even though there is nothing on me. Did some more French work till late, for there is no rest for the wicked. Then downloaded so...