Saffron Buns

I had a good day! There was a moment around one o'clock where I was doing that staring into the void thing, the heater warming my cells into stasis, me not wanting to create an outfit or a face. As it happens my outfit came together by addition of a tshirt and worringly again I needed to put on lipstick to feel ready for things. A small amount of makeup, not a pasting, which is actually feeling quite nice. Herbs, whatever, it's just nice to touch my own face and for it to feel like a normal somebody's.

A good day! Again! The fifth in a row if I'm not mistaken. What has happened? I have begun to respect sleep more. I have had minimum eight hours per night for a week, around ten on ill Monday, eleven straight on Friday, causing me to wake up half way as though potentially finished, but it was 3.30am so absolutely loads left! Absolutely is my new word for yes. I like saying it and meaning it. I said it a lot yesterday at work. I was energised the whole way through, despite having a massive headache within 30mins of beginning the shift.

It was nice to meet the producer last night. It was nice (what's with all the nice I don't know, I'm thinking about saffron buns) that I researched and enjoyed a radio programme for my journalism course, then met the maker on my own sofa ten months later. I bloody love that. Such a warm feeling. We chatted tea dances, I felt myself becoming so predictable and talking like a script, but how fun would it be to think up ideas, journalistically, but not in terms of disposable words? Keeping the words and ideas separate. Lets just put that on the list of Things I am Never Actually Going to Get Round to Doing(!). Along with owning that many records. Such sadness.

So the day started with Strictly and breakfast in bed. Perfection. I reluctantly fixed my puncture and enjoyed going off-bus-route for the first time since October(terrible/boring excuse), popped into Timber, then to New Contemporaries and then a Lucia Party. I ate six or seven saffron buns and shrieked at a game. I bumped into them on the corner and it was (nice), sat in a big chair whilst I worried about my bike, then tried crudely to piece trends in the art. I saw work I have seen before by two people I know people of. That felt good, in the loop, real and existing, not things on this plateau of special that I'm not invited to anymore. I'm invited. I'm on it. I'm it. If I want. And I have another day off work to attack. Lets make it six.