Fine. I’ll just have another day in Brighton with the cat. Things to do? Yeah like stroking. Stroking that cat. That’s the thing I do. That’s it. And feeding her. And occasionally randomly getting full on bitten when I don’t expect it. Although mostly she’s been a sausage and she hasn’t drawn blood. She took my wrist in my fangs earlier but was merciful.
She tried to wake me up at 4 jumping on the pillow and shouting. I checked my watch and drew the line. I set an alarm for 5.30. She tried a few more times but I made her wait until half five. It’s been creeping earlier and earlier and suddenly it was too early, too early. No. I’ll be off into the dawn tomorrow though God help me. Way too early to be leaving but van hire and all that crap awaits me, so she will actually get all her stuff done with the dawn tomorrow.
I ate out again this evening at Brighton Curry. A mixture of treating myself and not wanting to do the washing up. Tasty food just down the road from a massive bollocks of a place. St James’s Street where all the fucked people hang out shoplifting and selling drugs. Brighton is small enough that all the stuff is walkable and it changes fast. Walking east from here you’re going from Kew to Camden to Covent Garden in about thirty minutes. The cash point on St James is a constant noise of one person withdrawing money while another one fidgets in their peripheral vision. All I needed was £40 for the cat cover. Fuckers were all over me. It’s rarified here and there’s less to do. More fuckheads pushed into smaller areas. Filthy angry people trying to exchange money for poison. I watched someone pull on a COVID mask, walk into a supermarket and walk straight back out with presentation pack of Nivea that was right by the door. It all happened so quickly.
I’m home now, and laying out money and food so it’s easy for Beth to look after the little pussyface. I’ll only be gone two nights but I’m already sad about it as we’ve found a dialogue, the little thing and I, and the closest I’ve got to a routine in many decades even if it is entirely against my instincts and preferences.
Bedtime now, early. Likely I’m gonna take my sleepy drink to be certain I get a few hours in as tomorrow will involve too much driving. Then apparently I’m playing multiple small parts in Julius Caesar somewhere in London on Sunday night…
AlBarclay 