Deskbound

Showered, dressed, squeezed drops into Calliope's eyes and off to London. Have seen half a dozen people on the tube reading amazon kindles. I have been busy scorning them, but find there's a small part of me that wants one.

A beautiful blue-skied January day, which I spent manacled to a desk. At lunchtime, after an appropriate pause to fondly think about my packed lunch 55 miles away in my fridge, I chatted to Laura the writer I was sitting next to who showed me some of her excellent paintings online, which she mainly does to commission. Then a long afternoon of slogging, with Rick appearing looking slightly wired with the stress of it all. When he briefed me and Simon the designer yesterday he said it was the most difficult brief he'd delivered for 20 years. Sadly it's not even the worst one I've received this year, and nowhere near as bad as the useless brief.

After three days of travelling and agency work, feeling hungry for a bit of culture. Caught the 7:36 from Victoria and was had just randomly downloaded The Waste Land onto my Blackberry when by chance Reuben got on and sat next to me. We'd not bumped into one another for a while. Glad to hear he is doing well on all fronts.

Then home at last, a large moon spotlighting the Twitten. Calliope inside full moonish charging me playfully with an arched back as punishment for my absence.