under another sun

The Mammoth Odd beach like sensation in bed. Gradually worked out that now that there's a thaw, Calliope is trotting grit into my sheets. All day I have had this image in my head of a mammoth in a glacier. The mammoth stands for progress and my joie de vivre which is resolutely sealed away. It's the January Blues. I hate January. January is scum. The media is full of finger-wagging. An article on the BBC: a sedentary life spent staring at screens will kill you. As this is pretty much all I have done over the last few weeks, and I am morbidly obese, I decided to have a day of moving to stave off an abrupt demise. Had a longish walk by the sea, in nose-pinching cold. The pier almost deserted. A keen wind biting through the rides and stalls, and hardy men mending things out of sight with power tools. The merry-go-round horses stored in a pile under canvas sheets, and above them half a dozen silent seagulls stationary in the sky. Then to my new cafe to work. As I walked in the two...

Woke up this morning... der-der der der The January Blues is almost palpable. Commuters looking particularly grey-faced and etched with ennui this morning. As for me, I'm still cheery but my now-traditional January hobble in full force. So it is back to the bloody quack again tomorrow as the FB thinks I may have ruptured a tendon. Work subdued, and I fiddled with scraps in the office revising other people's work on utilities, and snow leopards, and writing a jovial pitch blog. The Gnome is on holiday for the week. Left the office a little early to ensure I had a good hobbling start. Some defective train on the line meant that it was cancelled (wouldn't have happened in Japan). As I shuffled with the purgatorial mobs on the platform, trying not to stand on the wrong leg, I lurched into a bleak looking Spooner: the January Blues in person. He was looking about him and saying "if you could bottle the pissed offness of people on this platform..." He introduced me to ...