Get up early and go up to Oxford Street. H gets an iPhone and I get some trousers and stuff from Boots. I’m not even going to pretend it’s as interesting.
Get the tube back and go for breakfast, then home. I crash out for a bit, then go out again. Exchange the defective St Vincent CD (while buying the other one and a couple of DVDs), then more trousers and home in the drizzle. The weather is taking it upon itself to rain as much as possible at the moment.
Pack. I’m now packed, which is amazing to me.
Get fish and chips and drink delicious beer and watch programmes about Apollo 11, as well as the Charlie Brooker thing from the other night.
A day mainly of paying bills, which is something, but not very exciting. Good to have done, though. Also a day of feeling a bit rubbish, which is why I didn’t get much done. A shame, as it’s not as if I have that much time left before San Cugat to do things in.
Oh, and Channel 4’s on demand service is rubbish, isn’t it?
Up at 6:00; sit, breakfast, H leaves. I pack. I’m very nervous.
I get a lift at 8:30, but when I get to the Hall, find that it’s locked, so I have to wait until Phil’s got the key and unlocked it, anyway. I start setting up the stuff – and there’s a lot of stuff this week – we move up the piano and I set up loads of microphones.
Anyway, exciting morning: Passport show with lots of guests and an audience and everything, me switching between them a lot. Then to the deli for coffee, back to the hall to pick up my stuff, then lift home.
I mix the morning’s session, then lie down.
H gets home. I make kedgeree (which necessitates her going out to get some butter and some parsley, sadly…), then watch The Happiest Days of Your Life, which makes me laugh out loud more than any Launder and Gilliatt that I can remember. Then TV, including a leap forward to season 3 (?) The Wire.
Up… oh, later. Sit. Breakfast. Get into Walker about 10:30. The weather is still fairly rubbish, but I don’t mind fairly rubbish weather as long as I’m inside.
Around the corner, someone is chopping down a lamp post with a chainsaw (no, I didn’t know they did that either), so I’m obstructed, and have to detour round them; outside the Imperial War Museum, my way is blocked by a sea of schoolgirls getting off a coach and filling the pavement, so I have to push through them; on reaching the studio where I’m working, my way is blocked by someone emptying a plan chest.
So, a day of obstructions.
Find out why my address keeps dropping off the Post Office’s database: the post deliverer keeps reporting it as non-existent, presumably because when they ring the doorbell no one answers. I have a long argument with someone from the Post Office about it: they say that it’s up to the Post person, and anyway if it causes problems in other spheres it’s not their responsibility. I wonder how often he has this argument.
Retouching, go out for lunch with Ben, back again, more retouching.
Finish at about 16:30 and walk home. Torrential downpour makes me stop under a bus shelter. A let-up allows me to walk home again, but then it redoubles its effort and adds hail to the mix. I run for home and am drenched.
Look on the plinth website to see a woman from Manchester who’s just survived it, amazingly. Talking to herself and trying to stay cheerful. Her family have sheltered in the National Gallery, and I can’t say I blame them.
In the evening do PDF of the book job that was such a hassle last week and upload it. Clear space on my laptop for tomorrow’s Passport. Faintly terrified.
Up at 6:00 and sit. Breakfast, and H goes out. Practise. Walker, for more retouching.
In the evening to Movements, then home to Japanese food – hooray!
Colder, rainier day. If I’m not actually out in the rain I sort of prefer it – does that make me a bad person? Apparantly, Wimbledon managed to miss the rain, and they have a fab new roof, so it wouldn’t have been a problem. Ha, ha; and Nelson Muntz might say.
More job-from-hell corrections, all day until about 20:00 when i go downstairs to get pizza, meet with Phil H to swap info and CDs, and upstairs for pizza, wine and… nothing really.
I spend the first part of the day practising for the upcoming LCG project, and most of the rest of the day doing corrections. And most of that time is spent not so much doing the corrections as staring at the piece of paper they’re written on, hoping that they’ll make sense. Eventually they do, sort of. Or at least I make sense out of them.
The St Vincent album is some sort of comfort, actually.
In the last couple of hours of the day I add a guitar solo to Mufti Day in order that I can upload it.
I get up at 11:30, having slept from 7:30, having been afflicted by insomnia. I speak to an expert re an ongoing work problem (possible “insanity” is a better word than problem), and do some practising.
Pack up the Godin at 17:00 and get to the Barge. Lengthy soundchecking / rehearsal takes place. I’m convinced I’ve forgotten all my songs.
Begin something like 20:30 – I do Gravity, Nothing But Green Grass, Learning to Crash, River Rise and Iodine. There’s a forlorn cry for The Things You Get, but I tell them to hang on until Christmas. Goes quite well, I think. I forget slightly less of the bridges in Nothing But Green Grass.
After a break the Jeays band takes to the stage and plays the new album, plus Cupid plus (by popular demand) Laughing Song and Geoff. Lots of fun, and I’m amazed at some of the things coming out of my fingers – I just sit and watch them playing.
Post-gig drink, then catch a 344 home.