Sunday Sunday Sunday

Here I am, of a Sunday evening, sitting on a bench looking at the river. Different bench just because I’m bassacred like that. But same leyline. Between the pagoda and Albert Bridge. Catching the ebbing rays of the spring sunset as the low tide turns back to flood and the plane trees relentlessly shit on my jumper and in my eyes and mouth.

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I haven’t been so well recently, this last week or so. My motivation has dissolved and I’m eating terribly and sleeping too long. Often my mood and behaviour is directly aligned with my spending power. The flusher I am the calmer I get. The reality of a few more months of this is affecting my breath. I had a run of work and sorted out a large portion of my debt. Is that all going to go for nothing because of this? I really hope not. And what the heck is going to happen to the world? The heaviness of worry has set in and has temporarily slowed me down. I’m sure I’ll pick up again and soon. There’ll at least be a change tomorrow.

A friend of mine has been isolating in North London looking after a flat that needs some work done to deal with historic flooding. The workmen have finally agreed to come and do the job, but if he is there when the dehumidifiers are on then it invalidates their insurance. So he’s homeless suddenly. I’ve told him he can kip on the sofa for four days. We might go to Mel’s in Hampstead since I’m breaking protocol anyway by letting him stay. But either way it’ll probably be for the best where I’m concerned. Company will help me find the motivation I’ve mislaid. I’ve told him he has to help with the cleaning and sorting process in the flat, and that we can’t use the company to turn into a pair of wreckheads. I’m usually better at doing things when there’s company.

Apart from Hex I’ve mostly been kept company by the Rolling Stone top 100 ’90s Albums again, although more and more I’m noticing that it’s an American list. Different Class was in the mid eighties and next up is Belle and Sebastian – higher in the list than Definitely Maybe. There’s been no Blur yet. I’m curious how that rather odd rivalry plays out in the top spots of the chart. But I’m not peeking ahead. And I’ve only skipped one album and that’s R Kelly. I just wasn’t in the mood for something so cheerful.

Hex has shed his skin and thrown water all over the place and steamed up his terrarium. I’ve been gathering myself, as he has been off his food for a few days and now I know it’s because he had a shed coming. I’m gathering my energy and willingness as in half an hour I’m going to completely huck him out while he hangs round my neck, and then the two of us are going through a very long performance of The Dance of the Eat Me Mouse. There’s no way I’m letting another one to to waste…

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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