I got a good night’s sleep last night with only a weird disconcerting moment in the early hours. I woke up and I usually fall back asleep quickly, because I rewind the audiobook (always one of three regency romance novels narrated my Richard Armitage) to the last section I remember, set the timer for 20 minutes and… am off asleep in less than 10. At some point this morning though, before I drifted off I all of a sudden had a vivid memory of being in one of the Camden Market yards. Roaming around before the Arkells / Felix Hagan gig during Lost Evenings 2018. Once again… WTF Brain? How do you get from Regency Romance to the Camden Market in the 2010s? I was a bit sentimental before I drifted off; not especially because I love Camden that much (because I don’t), but because… remembering being someplace else always makes me wistful these days.
The day at the office was very spreadsheet centred and I hope these tasks will be finally done tomorrow, because I’m fed up by all the numbers and tables and… ugh! Give me a text to write again please. Or people to talk to. But I was busy and mostly focused on work so not too much time to let the mind wander and worry and such.
Most of my evening I spent doing bits of election campaign work (web, social media et al) for our local Greens. In a way it’s a bit frustrating that there are only a few people actually digging in and doing this tedious work. On the other hand I’ve bee weirdly energized about campaigning and local politics and all, so I made the most of that drive.
I now need sustenance though and another early-ish night to be able to get to the office early, before the heat settles in the building.
Title Lyrics: Love, Ire & Song, Frank Turner, 2008