Mood: Pleased with myself, as I’ve just had my most productive hour of the day work-wise: fiddly repetitive tasks, which needed sustained concentration.
Physical state: Ready for a cup of tea. Last night’s hangover has yet to strike in earnest, but that normally comes later in the day.
(Alan, K and one of K’s work associates, sitting outside The Social on Pelham Street, yakking into the small hours. It’s not often that K partakes in midweek social activities, so we were in no hurry to cut the evening short.)
Other observations: In order to maintain concentration upon aforesaid fiddly repetitive task, have just been using shiny new 60gb black iPod for the second time ever, the first time being on the walk to work. Did I mention that I have spent the last couple of months more or less living without music? The combination of broken laptop, broken iPod, broken Discman, living in a hotel during the week, and only being able to play gentle, soothing, K-friendly world/jazz/folk at weekends (and frankly, there is only so much tasteful Ali Farka Toure strumming that a man can reasonably take) meant that I could go for days on end without listening to anything remotely challenging. Hell, I left London still thinking that Infernal’s “From Paris To Berlin” was a hip new dance track, just beginning to break through in the clubs… and as for your Raconteurs, your Kooks, your Dirty Pretty Things, your Lostprophets and your Automatics, I can’t even begin to form an educated position (although I can certainly form an educated guess, sneer sneer).
(And the really weird thing? After a while, I more or less stopped missing music altogether. Who knew?)
troubled diva 