whether the weather

It's raining. Heavily.

I was promised snow. Lots of it. Well, not promised, particularly: just incessant bloody weather warnings on the radio and such.

Not a fekking flake.

I am part annoyed and part relieved. Annoyed because I do like a bit of snow, but relieved because my knee is still not up to snuff and I expect that I should find it comparatively hard going getting around out on the old frozen stuff. Nonetheless, it is one of the drawbacks of living in the capital: all the interesting weather (apart from smog) happens elsewhere.

*poot*

whether the weather

It's raining. Heavily.

I was promised snow. Lots of it. Well, not promised, particularly: just incessant bloody weather warnings on the radio and such.

Not a fekking flake.

I am part annoyed and part relieved. Annoyed because I do like a bit of snow, but relieved because my knee is still not up to snuff and I expect that I should find it comparatively hard going getting around out on the old frozen stuff. Nonetheless, it is one of the drawbacks of living in the capital: all the interesting weather (apart from smog) happens elsewhere.

*poot*

I guess that's why they call it the blues

Last night I found myself irrationally annoyed by something that intellectually I knew should have passed me by. I gave myself an hour or so to cool down by watching sci-fi on the computer, but I was still out of sorts when I finally turned in.

This morning I woke up to find that I am still out of sorts, but no longer annoyed. The mood has converted itself to a sort of melancholic ennui that has settled like a damp fog across my day. It’s not depression or anything like that and I can already feel it passing; I am lucky in that I cannot hold onto negativity for long unless it is constantly stoked by events external to me. I have decided to jolly myself out of this mood by digging out my Walkman and playing some Focus. Normally I should go straight to Sylvia for three minutes of audio crack, but the first track is Hocus Pocus and I have decided to let it run from there. Sometimes a coffee isn’t enough; sometimes you need the triple espresso. Today is one of those: three or four tracks by the mad Dutchmen, culminating in Sylvia will punt these blues into the long grass where they can stay until I trip over them again.

I guess that's why they call it the blues

Last night I found myself irrationally annoyed by something that intellectually I knew should have passed me by. I gave myself an hour or so to cool down by watching sci-fi on the computer, but I was still out of sorts when I finally turned in.

This morning I woke up to find that I am still out of sorts, but no longer annoyed. The mood has converted itself to a sort of melancholic ennui that has settled like a damp fog across my day. It’s not depression or anything like that and I can already feel it passing; I am lucky in that I cannot hold onto negativity for long unless it is constantly stoked by events external to me. I have decided to jolly myself out of this mood by digging out my Walkman and playing some Focus. Normally I should go straight to Sylvia for three minutes of audio crack, but the first track is Hocus Pocus and I have decided to let it run from there. Sometimes a coffee isn’t enough; sometimes you need the triple espresso. Today is one of those: three or four tracks by the mad Dutchmen, culminating in Sylvia will punt these blues into the long grass where they can stay until I trip over them again.

I suppose this counts as one of those things I don't do...

As stolen from many people:

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often or ever) please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me.

It can be anything you want - good or bad - BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.

I am perked up, if still too hot. The battery on my Walkman is down to 50%, so may not last out: I need the divertissement...

I suppose this counts as one of those things I don't do...

As stolen from many people:

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often or ever) please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me.

It can be anything you want - good or bad - BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.

I am perked up, if still too hot. The battery on my Walkman is down to 50%, so may not last out: I need the divertissement...