Turns out my bank fucked up, so at least after however long on the phone, I got the payment holiday on my loan. I shouldn’t really have taken the loan out in the first place, but things weren’t very happy a few years ago. They aren’t happy now either but at least this time I’m in the same boat as most of the people in the world.

At least I have a car.

I drove across London to talk with somebody about how I’m going to go about cold calling a load of people in early August. Needs must. Fuck all else is happening.

Faced with the reality of having to do something I hate (cold calling ugh ugh ugh) in order to make ends meet, I went up into my attic and brought down a box full of antique fans that had happened my way a year ago. They’re too precious to be used in theatre, or they’d have already gone to Gatsby and the like. They’d disintegrate within a week of actor use. But they have beauty and some might have value to a collector. There’s an auction in October up North. I spoke to a fan expert who lives in France and who guides the auction, and now I’ve sent 21 photographs of 21 individual fans to her. Hopefully some of them will be worth something and I can get them to her in time for good photos before the auction.

But a lot of them have ivory, and the law might be changing about selling antique ivory. Still, she’ll know what’s what regarding them all and hopefully will be inclined to help. I’m sure that something good will come of sending all the photos. Even if it’s just getting another box of random stuff out of the attic and shifted.

I’m home and I’m hoping I won’t have another night of crazy dreams. My sleeping brain has been so wild and active recently that I’m usually wide awake by half six and dead to the world at eleven at night. I can usually roll my dreams but these dreams have been elusive. It’s like I’m sleeping differently.

I was supposed to pay the cops today for the insurance fuck up but I didn’t have the means and can’t find my credit card. I’m now going to have to ring them in a tiny window tomorrow in order to hopefully stop them from initiating court procedures and making life even harder for me. That’s enough to interrupt my sleep on its own. Add to that my nascent attempts to once again stop it with the alcoholic beverages and I reckon over the next few weeks my whole relationship with Morpheus and Hypnos is going into overhaul.


Meanwhile the living room is full of fans. I’ve been sending emails hither and yon to all sorts of people about selling all sorts of things that would otherwise gather dust in the attic. Time time past time, especially considering I’ll spend the first three weeks of August trying to telephone people who don’t want to hear from me.

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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