I’m not a good enough mechanic and I’m okay with that.
Morning found me downstairs attempting to wedge a doorstop into the backseat doorhandle of my car to start the process of changing the broken power window. I reckoned I could get the whole doorcard off before it started raining and then it started raining. With electrics involved and absolutely no time left before I fuck off to Paris, I opted to drive it to the honest saffer at Culvert Tyres in Battersea and ask him if he was better at fitting windows than I was. He really really was. Of course. And his Saturday guy came in. £60 window. £60 fit. £120 plus accordion. I can jettison the bad feelings.
I had to meet Lou. She was getting into town for eleven and I dropped off Bergie at ten past ten. Suddenly confined to public transport my bus only got to Victoria just in time and then we had to tube to Waterloo. Slumming it. I know the tube too too well. But honestly I avoid it when I can.
Brunch with Flavia and she’s bought a new vivarium for Hex.
I remember one time, years ago, when Flavia had to look after two weird tropical giant snails with Ivo, her son. It was some sort of school project. Different children got the snails at different times and had to make sure they didn’t die. Flavia LOVED the weird snails. When I needed someone who would not just take Hex but love him, I knew she was the right person and good lord she’s doubled down on that. It was nice to see him though. He’s definitely better off now than he was in Mel’s broken tank.
He’s a dude.
Rain was making everything tricky for the East India Company Walking Tour thing but I came over to Monument and slotted in for the evening. I’ll be back for two shows tomorrow even though no-one has been paid yet. It’s important work and they’re good for it.
Bedtime now. Pretty much gonna be able to drop everything and fuck off to Paris forever. Man, my life.
AlBarclay 