Carl released back into the wild

Looking at the Skeletons stuff this morning, and doing some pieces of admin. Spoke to Anton to be reminded that I had forgotten Klaudia's birthday. D'oh. What kind of a Godfather am I?

In the afternoon, after a sustaining cup of miso soup off to the hospital. Carl in much better spirits, and looking well and with his pain managed. The antibiotics seem to have done their job, and the nurses inexplicably had metamorphosed into being nice nurses. After several hours of us larking about and generally talking about old times, he was given the all clear to clear off. We got a bus home, and Bob called while we were in it. Spent a cheery evening listening to music and drinking red bush tea and decaffinated coffee (Carl is a notorious insomniac) before a wave of tiredness hit me fairly early, and I headed for bed leaving Carl to do logic puzzles and read the Vic Reeves "Me Moir" book.

While at the hospital I was called by the The Cat with the Hat who was sounding surprisingly chipper after his operation last week - and heard from Marja too, who I'll meet for a catch up soon too.

Just before doing so I logged onto my computer to read that The Sick Day had not been chosen for the local Brighton production. Somewhat disappointed with this. Now I am devoting much more of my time to writing, I've coincidentally experienced the longest series of consecutive rejections since I was in my early twenties. Sod's law in a nutshell.

Below Carl shortly before being released back into the wild.