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This is my 200th post on this blog. The number feels both momentous and totally insignificant at the same time. The vast majority of those posts are made up of 2016 travels – I posted on here very rarely during 2017 – 2019. But i’m glad i’ve kept it alive (just), so it’s more than just an archive of something I did four or five years ago, like a lot of travel blogs ended up coming once ‘real life’ resumes.
Hoping these weekly posts will continue and encourage me to invest more time in documenting things on here.
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Almost the entire week has felt like 5pm on a Sunday. It’s permanently grey, mostly wet, half-light. And honestly, pretty depressing.
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I’ve slowed down reading Blood Meridian and have started Ways Of Hearing by Damon Krukowski who was the drummer in Galaxie 500, a band I’ve been periodically obsessed with. Ways Of Hearing was an NPR Podcast he made a year or so ago, which was a great little series. It turns out the book is more or less a transcript of that, but it’s been really well put together (by MIT press) and should be a quick read.
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I got some film developed, photos from the last few weeks or so. With a couple of exceptions they are almost universally underwhelming. But at least the camera works. Given that most of the photos were taken in my living room, bedroom, and workspace, it hit home how little i’ve left East London in the last month, or even the confines of my flat. Not that it’s been bad – or not been by design – but I really should invest some time in dotting some things on the horizon.
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Work-wise i’ve spent a large part of the week arguing with my team over a dropdown menu. By 7pm Friday any ability to care had been fully drained from me. The cherry on top of a tough and somewhat pointless week arrived a couple of hours later when I was having a drink with Jack in the Cat & Mutton on Broadway market.
Long story short: a drunk person vomited on our table from the top of the staircase on the second floor. There were little bits of a strangers sick in our drinks, on my jacket, hat, Jack’s phone. It’s Sunday and i’m starting to appreciate the slapstick value in it, but at the time I don’t think i’ve ever felt more publicly revolted. I can only say I was happy I lived less than two minutes from the pub and I have immediate access to a washing machine, and a shower.
London is one of the few places on earth where events like this, no matter how grim and unpredictable, are met with relative acceptance or even joy. We are all living in a gutter.
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I had a spontaneous catchup with Mia on Saturday and started True Detective again in the evening and i’m feeling much better, despite it actually being afternoon on Sunday now and the fact that is hasn’t stopped raining since it woke at 8.
Feeling very glad to have tomorrow off work due to a public holiday – Family Day – in Canada. I can only imagine how much happier and healthier and generally sane we would all be working a four day week.
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A quote I heard in my writing class this week which felt fitting: “Life need not be easy provided only that it is not empty”.
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Photo: Francesca / Elevator in Alden House, February 2019.
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