under another sun

Up and working early on poems, and social media posts. Trying formulae such as lists which work quite well.  I wrote a list about aliens in advertising , and also worked a little on the new poem. Lorraine working at home, so we had a comparatively leisurely start to the day, after she'd been getting up very early most of the week. In the afternoon, off to meet Susan Evans in the Marwood cafe. She was trying to persuade me to perform in something called The Minge Fringe, a Vagina Monologues influenced thing. I felt ill equipped and had to admit that my contribution to minge literature was negligible. I'd met Susan at the poetry workshop I go to and she is an effervescent performer, and generally rather lively. She is writing a new piece which starts with the line "My minge has been through the mill.." Home and sloped up to The Signalman with Lorraine where she drank a soda water and I had a couple of beers and the sun went in.  A jay about its next robbing business...

Up after the sleep of the dead, feeling heavy and exhausted.  Reading The Sound and the Fury on the train to work, got off at Victoria and felt a bit peculiar and panicky for a few moments but pressed on  to work.  The day's work went well however. It's a bit of a slog but on a really interesting project where artists have collaborated with people with medical conditions to produce art pieces. Enjoyably listening to the guardian football podcast on the way home. As Lorraine was training governors again,I popped into Sing Li as I couldn't be bothered to cook. Klaudia's little friend (whose mum and dad own the place) said hello to me. Her dad always remembers me too, which feels nice. Walked back through the station full of shouting football fans, and scarfed fish and chips at home very grateful to be there. Several small moths flying about. Worrying.