Monday in a Square
Terrible night's sleep, compounded by Calliope persistently tormenting me before I got up at seven, seemingly immune to furious batting off. Consequently rather tired today as I trained off to work in Tavistock Square. Main highlight of the day a teleconference to Switzerland at lunchtime where I presented the deeply creative and strategic thinking I'd been working on for several days in answer to the brief. What the client mainly wanted was five posters. So it goes.
Nice young lad sitting opposite me was on a work experience week from school. He was the son of an old boss and, dismissing the goading of Evil Paul Kenny, was nice to him.
More good chats with Slug, who being an old prog rock head had gone to see the surviving members of Van der Graaf Generator last night. He said they looked like an ancient Butlins show tunes band, but sounded terrifying.
Finished Roland Barthes The Pleasure of the Text. This is an amazing book, and if only I'd read it with such diligence while at University.
Bought a SF novel called Embassytown, by China Miéville on the way home and started it on the train, I learned about it while working on my book as it features a race of people who have no understanding of metaphor. Call me old fashioned, but I like SF with aliens that the author attempts to make as alien as they can.
Released back into the wild this evening, but may be called on to return to London later in the week. Home and cooked fish, vegetables and rice for Lorraine who was detained by yet another ofstead inspection. I rather spoiled this healthiness by eating apple crumble with lashings of custard afterwards.
L and I sat rather tiredly watching The Returned/Les Reveneants which was fantasmagorique fun. And so to bed at a decent time - and for the first time in days not having drunk anything. I could never be an alcoholic, I just stop enjoying drink after a few days. But there is nothing like a cold beer after a week's abstinence.
Nice young lad sitting opposite me was on a work experience week from school. He was the son of an old boss and, dismissing the goading of Evil Paul Kenny, was nice to him.
More good chats with Slug, who being an old prog rock head had gone to see the surviving members of Van der Graaf Generator last night. He said they looked like an ancient Butlins show tunes band, but sounded terrifying.
Finished Roland Barthes The Pleasure of the Text. This is an amazing book, and if only I'd read it with such diligence while at University.
Bought a SF novel called Embassytown, by China Miéville on the way home and started it on the train, I learned about it while working on my book as it features a race of people who have no understanding of metaphor. Call me old fashioned, but I like SF with aliens that the author attempts to make as alien as they can.
Released back into the wild this evening, but may be called on to return to London later in the week. Home and cooked fish, vegetables and rice for Lorraine who was detained by yet another ofstead inspection. I rather spoiled this healthiness by eating apple crumble with lashings of custard afterwards.
L and I sat rather tiredly watching The Returned/Les Reveneants which was fantasmagorique fun. And so to bed at a decent time - and for the first time in days not having drunk anything. I could never be an alcoholic, I just stop enjoying drink after a few days. But there is nothing like a cold beer after a week's abstinence.
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