Thurs Feb 28th 2013

6.50 a.m.

Jolted awake today as I was worried that I had forgotten to set the alarm and had overslept. The night followed its typical pattern and I was obviously concerned that I had woken up late and wouldn’t have time to get through everything that I need to do today. Turned out I had set the alarm, in fact, and that everything was just fine. Dreamt about one of my close friends who has recently become a Dad. We (“we” being a group of my friends) had all gone to his place for Poker which we all play as a group regularly, and it turns out that his place is in a pretty little side street and the front garden is the garden of a pub attended by very friendly folk. We all sat at the pub for a while, and then went inside, strangely, I don’t remember us playing Poker. We all just sat around talking and then my friend, started to talk about what a tough time he and his fiancé had when their boy was born and it made me really sad and I started crying. Then we were all crying and my friend told everyone, one by one, how much he appreciated them. When he came to me, he said that I would have to wait until last because he had lots to say, but I don’t remember what he actually said in the end, or if I just woke up before finding out. In any case, it was very emotional. The front room at this place was basically the same as the front room of his brothers’ place in Battersea – wooden floors, big windows, from the outside the house looked like one of those houses in Canada Water that sat on the water, or perhaps like a house located next to the Moorings pub. There is another segment of something in my brain, we came back home, I can’t remember it properly – argh. Oh well, perhaps it’ll drift back later. Yesterday was a good day. Lots of good little things were done – monthly bills reduced, I was pleased and surprised to hear that I can get a new phone handset and a cheaper contract due to a loyalty bonus I’ve built up over the last few years. That was a pleasant surprise. All I need now is an audition, dammit! Need to find out what’s hindering me, who knows with stuff, there don’t seem to be any rules, particularly. It’s hard work sometimes, and you can feel like it’s perhaps silly to try at all – but it makes sense that no one is going to give a shit about me at this point – after all, why would they? Indeed, no one knows who I am! Radio 3 this morning. It’s quite good, just a slightly less frilly version of Classic FM really, but I like it. Today, busy. Eddy is coming over to flesh out some ideas he’s got going on, so going to study and work out before 11 for full concentration and then squash in the evening, yeah! Also need to find the time to learn lines, lots to do before Tuesday. Looking forward to that though! It’s light outside, exciting! That immediately sets you up with some energy, you feel that it’s only right to be up and about when it’s light outside like so, yeah. I am looking forward to summer this year. I like summer, long lazy evenings are good, although I might not be having so many lazy evenings. Maybe I’ll be busy. Doubtful, always time for play. Oh dear, developing a mild cough. Whenever I write down an ailment (which seems to be quite often, oops) I immediately feel like a hypochondriac / neurotic and then, not only do I question whether it’s blind neuroses about illness and ailments, I question why I would create a neurosis in the first place, another example of neurotic behaviour. Oops. I suppose it’s okay though, this is just the way the conscious mind interplays with things sometimes. Billy tidied the whole kitchen yesterday and it feels good, it makes a real difference, like a small area of your psyche has been cleared out, somehow. I believe that you need to be comfortable in your home, after all, it’s where you live and breathe and grow and you want an environment that allows you to feel those creative vibes. Then again, perhaps trying too hard to create the PERFECT home environment leads to more frustration and distraction from what really matters – the expression of your ideas. Sylvester Stallone wrote Rocky in his one room apartment with a teeny window and Butkus constantly trumping, right? Or had he sold him by then? Perhaps discomfort actually helps? Who knows? What I do know, is that I’m hungry. Time to eat. Definitely my favourite moment of the day. I freakin’ love breakfast!

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