Sunday 25th of March, 2001
Up at Seven as usual, when I log on (and my Mac makes contact with some server with a clock on it), notice that it's 9:15 am. I can't have spent an hour eating breakfast, surely?
No, the clocks have gone forward, of course. So time, as it usually does at this time of year, is hanging by two threads - the one my mind imagines it to be and the one my body knows it to be.
Some more primaries and scales. I try D major at first position and shifting via an open string. That's fairly fluid. E major barely possible, though.
My pa is off to the supermarket at 10:00 (what my body still earnestly believes to be 9:00), and I stock up with fresh-type things to eat. Including a fully-sized baguette. Oh dear, oh dear, down the slippery slope to being a full-time bread buyer again.
At home, I make some calls - Denise (not in), Judith (who I'll probably not see at the Kamel tonight, and not in), and Laura (in). We have a long chat - Laura's car has been removed by miscreants. I am nonplussed by the iniquity of the Car Insurance industry. Also discuss possible Keyboard Amplification Strategies and what might make The Best Job.
I put all my "unused" guitars into their cases. My intention is to concentrate on the ones that I'm likely to use for the time being, which means the classical, the Ovation and the Steinberger (with a special mention for the fretless bass). All the others will, hopefully, be either stashed or hung decoratively on the walls. Sadly I [lay instruments so comprehensively that, when I've finished with them, they have no real resale value, or at least their sentimental value is greater than any nominal monetary value they may possess.
I don't make it to the gym, again. This is at least the fourth day I have invested something that I haven't done with all the importance of something I do. I am making a habit of it. If good, but failed, intention was enough, I'd have the body of an athlete. Instead I have the body an athlete would have if you locked them in a dark room and fed them nothing but cheese.
Mushroom soup for lunch and more Fifth Elephant, which isn't about an elephant at all. I don't think there's any other popular writer dealing with cultural difference quite like this, in such an entertaining way. Instead of only reading five pages at each mealtime, I sit down and finish it during the afternoon.
After Dinner, Ellie rings about information and fliers for next Sunday.
Change the sheets. I now have clean sheets and a tidy (or at least less messy) flat. Soon I ought to be able to play the guitar very fast indeed.
Simon calls to say that he is less than happy with the performance last night (not, he hastens to add my performance. he feels that it was more of an ego trip for him and less of an incantation or rite, that we need to be in a triangle for more alchemical energy. Perhaps curiously, I sort of see what he means.
The washing machine needs baling again - this is happening more often. Worrying trend. Hang up wet clothes.