A day. Just a day.

How are we doing out there?

I haven’t been paying much attention to the news of late but it’s only a few days before a limited number of us are permitted to enter into a building together, I think. Who would have believed it would get to this? A year of this madness and more. This gradual drip of happiness and money away from most of us. I need a throng. I love a big stupid group hug where nobody has an agenda. I want to be in a massive dumb crowd. I want to be crammed into a tube carriage with my face in somebody’s arse and their knees in my ear. I want to have to play Twister in order to order a bag of nuts at the interval bar for some play where I’m watching actors roll around in each other’s sweat and spit on each other. I want to be that actor, sweating and firing out actorplasm. “Projection, darling. Not projectiles.”

“I’m fed up of this.” We hear that a lot. And God yes we have cause to be.

So … it’s back to trying to have social lives again, although there’ll always be the holdouts. Like the Kuril Islands, there’ll be places where the war never ends. There’ll be a flat in Dalston where a thirty five year old masked one lives for another twenty years in a perspex box, with both vaccines in their system, hissing at delivery people. In a decade, somebody will sneeze on a train and an indignant masked individual will lecture them at great length with the air of somebody being reasonable but a tone dripping with suppressed rage.

My evicted friend has now got six months to get home and get her stuff. That’s definitely better than “as soon as possible,” but the longer she leaves it the less closure she’ll get. And she’s been paying for the place for the last fifteen months without using it. If I can get my shit together I’ll Airbnb my room, go live there with the cat and split the profits. Hampstead is a lovely place to be at this time of year. Although I’ve got so much to do. My ideal situation would be to go to Jersey, make things happen, and not leave until they have. For that I’ll need a catsitter but maybe that’s the best thing to sort. I just need somewhere to stay in Jersey for two weeks broke. Anyone in Jersey want a temporary house swap?

Nice to have balls in the air I guess. Things will go somewhere and thank God for them doing it.

I finished listing books today. 45 Royal Cruising Club Journals from 1897 to 1957 at £9.99 starting each. I’ve noticed they sell so I thought it worth taking the time to schedule them all to go live tomorrow afternoon with ten days until Sunday. Hopefully an idle cruiser waiting patiently for a good time to go off on another adventure will see this collection – come to me through my grandfather from Lord Stanley of Alderley – and say “that’s just the thing for the library in my superyacht!” It was only a few hours work, so anything is gravy really and it’s another lovely thing saved from the bin.

And so to bed before another thrilling day of many things tomorrow. I’m ready to get on with it now thank you…

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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