Argh. I dreamt in comic panels last night, and I woke up knowing exactly how to re-write my script, so I started on it right away. But then I couldn't find the grids I needed to refer to, they have disappeared completely. And now I want late breakfast, and I can't be bothered to go out because I got a nasty bill and so don't want the expensive cafe, and the cheap cafe has 80% chance of being flirted at today according to my weather report. So I won't go there to write, neither.
There's nothing worse than romantic interest when trying to work.
I really dislike the way that one person realising I'm regularly going to some place by myself and thus getting the notion that romance is on basically renders the whole territory useless as a creative space. I wish humans had a clear signal that says ABSOLUTELY NOT INTERESTED passively and categorically to everyone around, like a special crest I could just switch on and forget about. I wonder if some marriages are based on that need.
Ah well, I can afford losing territory, London is still full of places to sit and think. As long as I keep the Tate Modern members room, all is well.
Today I shall sit in bed with instant coffee, and then I'll have another look for those grids, and I shall have chips for lunch, and it'll be great.