I typed 'busy doing nothing' into google images in the hope of getting a good image for this post, and the only one I really liked (of a mud covered hippo) I wasn't able to save. So I got more angsty, and for a laugh I typed 'angst' in, and up came this work by Jack Pierson, so that was good.
I love Jack's work, and he's always been a totally charming guy whenever I've met him. So it's annoying that he was in town last week and I wasn't - having been on an extended break in Sussex.
Anyhow - doing nothing. I'm quite hopeless at doing nothing, being a nervous energy type of person, but today I can't face anything. Largely it's the hangover as a result of a wrap party last night, but also the house is a mess because of builders and to cap it all it's a miserable day outside. So I've turned my impatience into an advantage to blog. Except I have to think of something to blog about and since I can't really get my head round it I'm coming up with a totally random spewof unrelated nonsense. The new Bret Easton Ellis book started off well but I'm losing interest in it about half way through. Or maybe it's just my bad concentration at the moment, lthough I did sit through nearly two hours of Stockhausen on Saturday night and my concentration didn't waver for a minute.
What else? The Decemberists record is stunning - probably my favourite CD at the moment (I'm playing it as I type this). Must wash the fox poo off Marfa's collar a bit better. Nearly time for lunch. Maybe have another big long soak in our new bath. When do the Christmas decorations start going up? All this and more - busy doing pretty much nothing.
Normal service (or at least as normal as it gets on this irregular page) resumed soon hopefully.