Tlönista

I soothe myself with little things. The cat was sleeping on my bed when I came home and I kicked him off to throw the sheets in the wash. I was perched on top of the bare pillows and duvet, looking through the list of flat shares downloaded at lunch, when he came crawling back, meowed in an aggrieved tone, and curled up with his head on my feet purring. You wouldn’t have had the heart to push him off a second time, either.

Dinner was soup and garlic bread, with yogurt for dessert. I’m finding that the cheapest store brand tomato soup can be made halfway decent if you let it simmer long enough with shallots and garlic and olive oil and fresh pepper and salt. Oh bugger, I forgot about the cherry tomatoes in the fridge. Tomorrow, with the gnocchi…

Then I took a nice hot bath, a proper one, no other word for it, that went all the way up to my shoulders. In the mornings there’s never enough hot water to soak, I have to pour water over my hair with the blue squishy bowl, and I just don’t feel as clean.

Still haven’t had my pills yet, so I’m going to go make a cup of Ribena with hot water and have them with that while I look over my CV, and then take my sheets out of the dryer and go to bed.

Shonen Knife, “Giant Kitty”:

Giant kitty:

Napping on my bed makes him extra happy because he’s leaving hair all over my nice red blanket, and maybe even my black T-shirt.

Yesterday I went to Trafalgar Square to give out free hugs with other Couchsurfing people. Couchsurfing, for those not in the know: you know when you’re only in town for a couple of days so you just sleep on a friend’s couch or whatever? Couchsurfing is the same deal, except instead of a friend, it’s a perfect stranger! And it’s not creepy at all.

Anyway, afterwards the horde of CSers went to a Samuel Smith pub; the downstairs had been reserved but it was still super-crowded because so many people had come out. Jae, you would have loved it.

I fell in with a group of people who knew each other from college and got to talking about travelling and nerd stuff and what not, and after a while we went out and meandered through Soho in the rainy Saturday night, to a bar and a restaurant and then another bar…had a terrific time. And today is my pottering-around-the-house day and Jennie has promised banane-et-nutelle crêpes for dinner.

Couch pr0n.

The health-care assistant dips a piece of litmus paper into the vial of urine, draws it out, and compares the colours to a chart. Glancing up at me abruptly: “Do you have diabetes?”

“Er…no. I don’t think so.” Shouldn’t she be the one giving the answers?

“When did you last eat?”

“Two-ish, maybe?” It’s evening now.

She frowns at the bit of paper again. “Wash your hands.” When I’ve done so she pricks my finger and draws the little drop into a digital thingamabob. The number means nothing to me, but it puzzles her: “Well, blood sugar’s fine.” She tells me to make a doctor’s appointment.

The discrepancy is probably nothing, but alarming nevertheless. Yes, I know that diabetes has gone from an early death sentence to a common, serious but manageable medical condition. But it’s an annoyance. And I like my sweets, damn it all.

I’ll make an appointment tomorrow, before they need me too much at work.

P. S. I discovered, rather too late, that the Angoulême comics festival is coming up in only three weeks’ time. Getting travel and accommodation together in time is a bit of a gamble and I will probably end up just attending next year’s.

P. P. S. Must go, cat wants love.

There is a suspiciously grubby and cat-hair-covered little hollow in my duvet.

I have so much laundry to do, and a bath would be nice, but right now I just want to sleep.

More later.

Get up, check email and the weather, wash, haul myself into work clothes and haul ass to the train station to catch the 7:45. If I’m lucky, the northbound Northern line isn’t too crowded. Grab a cup of coffee while jotting down a journal entry, decompressing before the workday. Try to get a lot of stuff done and clear the file folders off my desk. Schlep down to my favourite café for “the usual”, jacket potato and a can of pop. Today: not the best, made some mistakes, stressed a lot and my shoulders ache. Get groceries on the way home. Throw together a typical dinner: pasta, with yogurt and fruit for dessert. By this time Jennie’s gone off to bed. Watch Spooks while petting the fat cat, who loves the attention. Run a hot bath for my shoulders. Feel bad about all the stuff that’s gone unblogged and emails unsent, but god damn it, it’s time to go to sleep again.

As usual, Jennie’s way ahead of me, but better late than never.

Stonehenge pictures!

Bath pictures!

And for all your patience, here’s a gratuitous cat picture:

He is like an immense marshmallow. With paws.

Max the cat is just a big fat fluffy tabby suck. He’ll approach me, meowing, then flop his great bulk onto the floor and roll around on his back, purring, so I can rub his belly.

KITTY!

That is all.