Weirdness
My life keeps taking weird turns.
I'm feeling much better after recently going through one of my dark patches (one of those inexplicable ones that hits me when everything is going well... the emotional equivalent of black ice on the road).
Of course, it did really help last week when I got to write those two reviews for Alt Mag. I can't wait 'til the mag goes to print (though I do realise that sometimes reviews get bumped to the next issue).
The past twenty-four have been pretty weird for me.
High point: getting to Camden in time to catch The Scare (completely against the odds, because I was running about 30 minutes late) play an incredible set. Then one of the members mentioned that the band were going to need a new bio sometime, and asked if I'd like to give it a try (since they really loved a review I wrote about them months ago). That was unexpected, but it did put a stupid smile on my face for the rest of the night.
Eventually I made it home, only to hear a horrible cracking, clanging, crashing sound come from somewhere in the maisonette. At the ungodly hour of half four in the morning.
I went to investigate and discovered that the ceiling above the front door (underneath the bathtub upstairs) had given way, dropping a pile of debris beneath it.
I cleaned up the debris, but what really bugged me was that my recent slide into neurosis, hypochondria and psychic paralysis (coupled with a couple of actual commitments) meant that I still hadn't finished painting the front door. In my exhausted state, I was concerned that if my Landlady found out that still wasn't finished, she would possibly have my head on a pike.
So starting at about 0530 AM (bearing in mind that I had been up since the previous morning) I set about laying on primers, undercoats, lacquers etc, sanding down the dry coats as I went. Bear in mind that as the front door dried I wasn't able to close it, so I basically had to stand guard over the front door for the whole day, even when I wasn't painting or sanding it.
Anyways, by the afternoon I finally laid on the first coat of Blue Gloss Enamel (probably a little thick, but I'll sand it down). I also called my landlady explaining the situation with the ceiling. My landlady, being the champ that she is, made all the necessary phone calls to arrange for someone to look at it tomorrow morning.
Neato.
I also entertained myself with domestic stuff like throwing clothes in the wash and the like, as well as reading some of the graphic novels I borrowed out of Homerton Library.
Now I'm exhausted.
I'm thinking sleep is a good idea.
Over and out.
-J
I'm feeling much better after recently going through one of my dark patches (one of those inexplicable ones that hits me when everything is going well... the emotional equivalent of black ice on the road).
Of course, it did really help last week when I got to write those two reviews for Alt Mag. I can't wait 'til the mag goes to print (though I do realise that sometimes reviews get bumped to the next issue).
The past twenty-four have been pretty weird for me.
High point: getting to Camden in time to catch The Scare (completely against the odds, because I was running about 30 minutes late) play an incredible set. Then one of the members mentioned that the band were going to need a new bio sometime, and asked if I'd like to give it a try (since they really loved a review I wrote about them months ago). That was unexpected, but it did put a stupid smile on my face for the rest of the night.
Eventually I made it home, only to hear a horrible cracking, clanging, crashing sound come from somewhere in the maisonette. At the ungodly hour of half four in the morning.
I went to investigate and discovered that the ceiling above the front door (underneath the bathtub upstairs) had given way, dropping a pile of debris beneath it.
I cleaned up the debris, but what really bugged me was that my recent slide into neurosis, hypochondria and psychic paralysis (coupled with a couple of actual commitments) meant that I still hadn't finished painting the front door. In my exhausted state, I was concerned that if my Landlady found out that still wasn't finished, she would possibly have my head on a pike.
So starting at about 0530 AM (bearing in mind that I had been up since the previous morning) I set about laying on primers, undercoats, lacquers etc, sanding down the dry coats as I went. Bear in mind that as the front door dried I wasn't able to close it, so I basically had to stand guard over the front door for the whole day, even when I wasn't painting or sanding it.
Anyways, by the afternoon I finally laid on the first coat of Blue Gloss Enamel (probably a little thick, but I'll sand it down). I also called my landlady explaining the situation with the ceiling. My landlady, being the champ that she is, made all the necessary phone calls to arrange for someone to look at it tomorrow morning.
Neato.
I also entertained myself with domestic stuff like throwing clothes in the wash and the like, as well as reading some of the graphic novels I borrowed out of Homerton Library.
Now I'm exhausted.
I'm thinking sleep is a good idea.
Over and out.
-J
posted by the.exile at 6:16 pm
1 Comments:
Hey! A fellow music journalist who was The Scare gig t'other day. How goes it? J x
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