21 March 2010

The weekend is coming to its close. My Screenwriter's Bible arrived! I've read all 365 pages of it and I'm exhausted but, on the upside, I have a couple of fantastic ideas. It's the formatting that is the most overwhelming prospect. It's one thing to write the thing and another to make it readable by industry types. Will it be another pipe dream that never comes to fruition because I lack stickability? Perhaps. I'll have to keep you posted on that one.

Otherwise, I've battled with the the space-time continuum whereby my washer-dryer skipped from 28 minutes to 8 minutes in the blink of an eye whilst I, looking on perplexedly from the kitchen table over the rim of my tea cup, mused about whether I'd actually lost 20 minutes of my life or whether the machine was faulty...

The machine was faulty. Along with everything in this damn house (oh, no I love it really - please don't tell it I said that!). Well, the bathroom light refuses to work and so I was forced to purchase a screwdriver, the bath is still filling up around my feet when I have a shower, the soap holder broke clean off giving me a terrible fright and the shower will, every now and again, throw a complete wobbly and slide from scorching to freezing over and over until you are forced to give up, your hair still full of conditioner.

On top of this - yes, there's more! - the new TV box is not working to its capacity and no one will sell me a new power cord for Nick's speakers.

I think that's it. Brilliant, though, that I managed to fashion a coffee table out of a piece of wood, two buckets and a pile of vogue magazines. It's very classy.

Did I actually do anything social? No. I talked predominantly to myself and the man at the electronics store. Mainly to myself whilst I cooked up two (no less) divine stews in my slow-cooker.

I read back over the weekends events and I'm ashamed. Perhaps some an injection of imagination will help this post:

Whilst walking along, on my way to Camden High Street, I came across a man, holding an umbrella and wearing a waistcoat and quite a fine shirt and pair of pants. He had a nice, young face and very long legs. He had very shiny shoes. Perhaps I wouldn't have noticed him, except that he was standing in the middle of the right lane of the road. He looked expectant. There was nothing coming. And so, I wondered for an instant if he was waiting for a car to come and bowl him down... But they would have seen him to clearly as they approached and surely would have stopped before reaching him. If that was his design, it was certainly flawed. Perhaps he was standing there in order to avert traffic from something up ahead. The closer I got, the more clearly I could see that he was averting traffic from nothing that could be seen by the naked eye. It was like an episode from Doctor Who. They're doing some fantastic marketing of the new Doctor Who series. Who watches it? Who knows?

The above was not in the least imaginative. It's all true. Odd, not particularly interesting, but true.

I also walked north of the homestead, later that day, passing the Arsenal supporters who plagued the streets. By locality, I'm an Arsenal supporter - well, not quite yet; just as soon as I have done my aforementioned research and become a dedicated fan of the sport. Another stickability issue? You're guess is as good as mine.