I’ve put all my semi precious stones on the windowsill in a glass jar of salt. This will achieve precisely nothing. Probably. But it might cleanse them of negative energy and make them more good at doing whatever crystallish type things they are supposed to be helping with. It’s the moon, you see. It’s all full and doing eclipsey things. People who are happy to pay double if its organic will assure you that putting your crystals in salty moony water does a thing. Who am I to assume they are wrong? I want my stones to have a thing so they can do thingy things and betterness happens!
Seriously I need all the good energy I can eat at the moment. The money just hasn’t been flowing in the right direction. Tomorrow morning I’m up at 6 to shave down to a moustache and get a short tape in before I go off and invigilate for the morning. Trying to redress the balance. One of the stones is a citrine and apparently they do something about money. Righto. I’ll always take Pascal’s Wager on these things. It generally makes life more interesting.
Post Marcus Antonius I’m just letting myself reconfigure. My back is pretty good now, still slightly ornery but the agony bit has gone. This timing coincided very well with me finishing the xanax. Seems I ordered just the right amount all those months ago. Didn’t know what it would be for but it has been the perfect companion and now I shall wean myself off it so I don’t use it as a booze replacement and end up zonked and benign like a fifties housewife.
I made the mistake of watching the news a bit today and was reminded about the state of America and how that rough beast, it’s hour come round at last, will crawl through here on its way east. I didn’t write about it at the time, but the day Starmer met with heffalump in London a few months ago there was a massive visible immigration sting on the King’s Road, with all the delivery bike drivers being stopped to have their papers checked by men with “Immigration Enforcement” written on the back of their hi-vis. We always follow America, more so now that culture is not localised.
So I switched off the news and unashamedly played Skyrim until Brian and Maddy got home at which point I ate a bit, washed a bit, wrote a bit and now I’m going to bed with an ibuprofen. It’s not good enough that I’m going with nothing but that day is coming soon. I just want to make sure I’m rested tomorrow morning, so I can turn in a decent tape. I’ll put one of my new washed stones in my pocket while I film it because, you know, might do something…
AlBarclay 