Oversleep a bit, though not as badly as yesterday. Breakfast and coffee. Checking email shows that several things are On at the moment, so I need to keep an eye on myself to make sure I stay on the ball and don’t get distracted by shiny objects. I do love my shiny objects. And everybody else’s shiny objects too, come to think of it.
Pick up the guitar and find a couple of ideas. I bring the laptop through to the bedroom to record them. Shower and dress and out. Carry an umbrella, even though there’s really no reason for it today. More of an affectation. I forget to check the green area that was being mangled yesterday to see how it’s looking today.
Into work a little later than usual, then. But it’s Friday, and I’ve been prebriefed on what I need to do so less pressure.
Long session artworking. Don’t really stop for lunch, just work through. As before, it’s actually quite relaxing, though after a few hours my brain starts to bubble behind my eyes and it’s probably a good idea to call it a day, lest I make mistakes that will take even more time to solve.
When I leave, I’m the last person left on the floor, possibly the building. Walk home via the shop, where I get tomorrow’s breakfast and possibly also Sunday’s dinner.
Home and depressurise as much as I can.
Go and get fish and chips, which we won’t have tomorrow as we’ll be out. For some myterious chip-shop-based reason, there’s a couple of cod waiting to go, so I don’t have to wait, which is even better. Mmm. Fish and chips.
Evening with the TV – Only Connect (which we normally watch on the iPlayer, so it’s a novelty to watch it “live”. I thought it was on on Tuesdays, though), the thing about musicals, the Bowie-at-the-Beeb thing, then looking for stuff on YouTube (including the RedLetterMedia chaps waxing enthusiastic about True Stories, which is nice – I do like watching people talking about things they like, rather than moaning about things they don’t. Although they don’t mention what I’d have thought to be an obvious thing, which it’s a sort of ancestory to Wes Anderson’s movies).
Stay up a bit later than I ought after I pick up the guitar. Every time I pick up the guitar everything else afterwards gets later. On the other hand what displaces it is usually more fun. Turn on the webcam and capure what might be another song if I put my mind to it. But which is, for the moment, filed alongside the hundreds of other passing notions I’ve caught over the last few years.