I am burnt out today. A fizzling little curl of wick, a pool of melted wax. I was up late writing the night before last, then back up early for a GP appointment about my skin - a disheartening affair that I’m too tired to go into now - then all day writing this week’s film review in coffee shops, then all evening and night working a horribly busy close, got out late, got home, another few hours finishing up the review. Then I was too tired to sleep. Then up today in time to let the bloke in to replace the battery in our house alarm...
So today I have mostly been doing: nothing. Watching Arrested Development (still better than season 4, still worse than 1-3). Catching up on a few game reviews. Washing my bedding. I took a few photos as the lip of the sky was turning watermelon pink and the light fading from the world. Ordered Domino’s and ate it in front of Sidney Lumet’s Network, an elegant and wry and thunderous satire from 1976 that I’ve somehow never got round to watching before.
Just pootling around now waiting for my sheets to finish drying, then I’m going to crawl under crisp covers and fall fast asleep.
I’m fine. Everything is OK. I’m just exhausted. Normal service, etc., tomorrow.
In a bit kiddiwinks. Yawn. Bye x
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