A sleep full of sweet dreams

Tiredness today, but no psychosis. Bonus!  Pressing on with the business book (aka The New Idea) until my eyes started hurting. (I need new glasses). Then I listened to the Steve Jobs book, which as a portrait of a profoundly-repellent narcissist is quite compelling. Not often do you read a biography when you actively desire the downfall of its repellent hero.

Phone chats to Anton and Marja, who I'd not heard from for ages and who is sounding fine, arranging a meet up with her and Sarah. Made time to meditate, and wasted time trying to clean the sofa with ineffectual cleaning fluid. Tonight Lorriane booked us a cheapish holiday to Greece. The idea of curling up like Endymion in the sun, sea, mountains and cicada-haunted olive groves is intoxicating. 

Below, for no good reason, Calliope drinking from a sink. My cat is still very much my daemon and sees herself as a thing above the tabbies Brian and Basil. A newish thing is to steal illegally into Lorraine's drawers, which L unknowingly shuts. After some time there is a demonic picking of claws in the room that seems to come from nowhere, and the source is only revealed when you open the clothes drawers and see her demented eyes among the socks and undies.


Comments