Sunday 4 April 2010 – EASTER SUNDAY
This morning I awaken past 9AM, a real rarity for me. Things feel good today, long weekends agree with me it would seem.
Today is unsurprisingly slow moving. Obviously there are things I want to get done today but the necessity doesn’t come with the kind of pressure I usually attach to these things.
Soon I am up though and beginning today’s session of writing. After briefly scratching the surface of Gestures on Friday, today I tentatively go over it a bit more but yet again I find the prospect troublesome and icky. I guess I am just not in the right frame of mind to be addressing these issues right now.
TV is death today and so as a result it proves little in the way of distraction, which ultimately serves me well.
I actually find myself listening to 7 Day Sunday live on air today, something I have never done before despite having listened to every episode so far (via podcast). It sees me through to midday.
In our building Easter Sunday appears to represent for some getting drunk and playing “Wild World” by Maxi Priest (and not Cat Stevens) over and over and over and singing along with the chorus. This guy is a true freak and the mere trigger of Maxi Priest to me serves to remind me of that idiot Danny Devito from the studio and his little publishing company. I am almost ashamed when after I stomp on the floor of my apartment (the ceiling of theirs) that shortly afterwards they switch their music off. I am such a killjoy and truly a nightmare neighbour.
Undaunted by this I take a break from writing to watch the first episode of season 2 of Mad Men in a vain attempt to catch up with everyone else. By the end of the episode it is suddenly beginning to occur to me that I have already watched this episode twice. What am I doing?
As usual I head over to the olds for 3PM, even Easter cannot kill routine. Leaving my flat I spot that the rogue car is still parked in my allocated/designated space. I paid for that you know. Peeved I write a note out on a pad and politely leave it on the junker. The note uses the words “please” and “thanks”, surely that’s not being unreasonable. My impulse really is to grab the golf club in the boot of my car and swing it into the side of the car but already being covered in dents part of me suspects that the owner might not notice this gesture.
I arrive slightly late for lunch, with the other two (my parents) having already polished off their dinner. In response to this I just look the dog in the face as if to say “you allowed this?” He now wants in on my action.
On Sky today is Everton v West Ham, a game where all the sensible heads are hoping for Everton to stuff West Ham and sink them into more relegation trouble. And it all begins well as Everton take the lead, which is soon followed by West Ham ballsing up a penalty. How can any team hope to survive relegation with Mido being their hope up front. As ever Tim Cahill rules and owns the field. Annoyingly West Ham equalise. Happily towards the end Everton regain the lead but West Ham promptly take the ball down the other end and score another equalizer to fight another day. Just fucking lie down.
From here I linger around the olds’ crib. Staring out of the window we laugh as some Asian dude illegally parks his car as his dumb stupid fucking kid leaves the back door wide open when they head inside their flat. For the longest time we wonder what we might be able to do with the car as a result.
Chris tries to iPhone a couple of times, leaving a voicemail message saying that he stopped by my flat earlier. I send him a text in the hope of arranging something for this evening but I don’t get a reply.
Returning to the Chris Morris book I reach the stage and learn about his Richard Geefe articles in depth for the first time. It sounds insane stuff.
Today TV is barren and unhealthily we wind up watching Holiday On The Buses on ITV4 or something. It would seem that these movies are now on a weekly loop, being shown almost permanently on one ITV station or other.
I head home just before 8PM on a brilliant early summer evening feeling down that I haven’t heard back from Chris.
With Jonathan Creek playing out in the background it reminds me of the David Renwick talk earlier this year when we were given a brief glimpse of this episode. From here I tear back into writing.
Just after 10.30PM this evening I pass the half million word mark for this blog. How did I reach this stage? Without doubt this makes this my most dedicated blog to date, the one with most effort and production put into it.
Eventually I head to bed where I begin watching my Harlem Globetrotters DVD.