So the day is largely dedicated to the greater glory of the Secret Project, about which I can’t say anything much at the moment, on account of the secrecy thing. MI5 isn’t involved, I hasten to add, merely a slightly jumpy rights-holder.
There is also running for an hour at the gym, taking in the delights of modern popular culture via MTV Shit! like a perverted kind of oxygen. It’s stopped sounding like any kind of music whatsoever, but rather a simulacrum of music. The fact that I’m getting old is, I think, coincidental. Anyway, I run and run but I don’t seem to be getting any thinner, possibly because I up my intake of deeply bad food in proportion to the amount of exercise I take. There ought to be a lesson in that. In fact there almost certainly is one, but I refuse to pay any attention to things like lessons.