Monday, August 10, 2009

Monday morning...

Another week. Half of the first day almost gone already, so the working week is all slipping away from me again as I speak. But so what? Who cares?

A nice weekend, during which I generally mucked about and relaxed with M and the boy F, which I don't feel like I've done for quite some time. We walked in the sunshine. We went to the park. We laughed. And meandered. General japes. Some monstrous vegetable burgers over at mothers. Bit of decent telly too - northern flat cap, whippet stroking rugby league Challenge Cup semis thrillers, then the miners night on BBC Four and Louise Theroux in The City Addicted To Crystal Meth, while not exactly mood enhancers, were jolly interesting. Bit of a disappointing musical experience - The Twang's Jewellery Quarter, demonstrating an act trying desperately to fit too many lyrics into too small a space. But maybe it needs a few listens. In contrast, I was also tempted to pop Sign O The Times back on the CD player for the first time in a long time and that was good to hear again.

Submitted play to theatre last week, waiting for news. This morning I sent some radio gubbins over to a Radio Four producer. I won't hold my breath. But that would be good to do.

Generally, I'm not doing enough, although I feel overworked. Flat battery syndrome. Thinking too much about stuff that ties me in knots to my own detriment. About removing the desire to fulfil my 'false needs', about the mess we're all in, about how to opt out of 'the system' if, indeed, it's possible. We have no money. A big part of me doesn't care. Another part of me worries. I wake up at around 4am most mornings. Not sure if it's the thinking or the tea-filled bladder weakening under the strain.

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