Fighting with my other girlfriend
Furious this morning. I'd slept badly and Calliope woke me by painfully inserting her claws into the sole of my foot. For some reason this filled me with instant savage rage. She hid under the bed, but I yanked her out and shook her like the worst kind of animal abuser, and booted her out of the room. I could hear her rushing up and down the stairs, and then shredding the toilet roll in the bathroom before going outside. Then she miaowed piteously and unceasingly in the rain, until with another roar of rage I had to bring her in and make peace. By then I was totally awake. It was 6:15.
So I got to work on French things for my French client. How much more enjoyable this work is that writing about ailments. All it does is make me want to go to France, rather than imagine I am picking at a smorgasbord of morbidities. On that note, I broke off to go to the quack who wanted to check my blood pressure, which even after waiting in the waiting room for an hour and having a slight fever was NORMAL: a splendid result, and partly to do with getting over my white coat syndrome.
A lovely note from Mark Ellis who is making the radio pilot show, and using Skelton Yawngrave as part of the mix: "Incidentally, I've been reading The Second Kind of Darkness to my two sons (aged 9 and 7) at bedtime, and they absolutely love it. We've just got to the bit where Skelton and Rick go underground together, and the suspense is almost unbearable for them!"
Good to know that real live nippers are enjoying it so much.
Furious this morning. I'd slept badly and Calliope woke me by painfully inserting her claws into the sole of my foot. For some reason this filled me with instant savage rage. She hid under the bed, but I yanked her out and shook her like the worst kind of animal abuser, and booted her out of the room. I could hear her rushing up and down the stairs, and then shredding the toilet roll in the bathroom before going outside. Then she miaowed piteously and unceasingly in the rain, until with another roar of rage I had to bring her in and make peace. By then I was totally awake. It was 6:15.
So I got to work on French things for my French client. How much more enjoyable this work is that writing about ailments. All it does is make me want to go to France, rather than imagine I am picking at a smorgasbord of morbidities. On that note, I broke off to go to the quack who wanted to check my blood pressure, which even after waiting in the waiting room for an hour and having a slight fever was NORMAL: a splendid result, and partly to do with getting over my white coat syndrome.
A lovely note from Mark Ellis who is making the radio pilot show, and using Skelton Yawngrave as part of the mix: "Incidentally, I've been reading The Second Kind of Darkness to my two sons (aged 9 and 7) at bedtime, and they absolutely love it. We've just got to the bit where Skelton and Rick go underground together, and the suspense is almost unbearable for them!"
Good to know that real live nippers are enjoying it so much.
Anton called for me, and as we walked along the Twitten heading to the Eddy. Calliope followed us to the end, then yowled as we sloped away like some emotionally blackmailing girlfriend.
A few beers and a long chat with Anton, who was glowing with pride when he told me that he'd taken Oskar for a long walk the other day: their first. Like the idea of the three of us mooching over Sussex when he's a bit older.
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