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 some tunes by Speech Debelle and The Invisible as a kind of reward.

Below Brighton train late into Victoria as usual, and the tube crowded. Nothing remarkable in this, but with my fresh back from Guernsey eyes it was pretty vile, airless and humid. I felt a bit dizzy, then lifted my hand above the multitude and snapped the shot below: a typical hot day at Victoria.