Stains Frost in the fields as the train chugged through them. In the Guardian: 'January is a miserable month and yet so many make it even more miserable by trying to give up some of life's great pleasures – such as alcohol. Three weeks in, how's it going?' Rock solid, thought I, sobbing. Noticed how I have replaced boozes with black coffee. This can't be right. Did my usual walk through the graveyard at Hammersmith, and the familiar off-kilter graves pleasingly rimed with frost. A long day. The pitch materials I was writing were about the very unpleasant pulmonary hypertension, and there was - even more than usual - far too much required in too tight a time. (There was, I thought privately, some last gasp material.) Simon the designer had yesterday worked half the night last night trying to design all the stuff we'd come up with. Feeling vaguely guilty, I stayed late rewriting lines over his shoulder on the three websites we'd designed. Rather warming to Sim...
Posts
Showing posts with the label Stephen Fry