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A peculiar morning...
I woke up at 06:30, intending to go to the gym, but felt so tired that I just gave up and went back to sleep. At 07:30, however, I felt like I'd had a full night's sleep in between. The bus and train were slow again, so I got a good bit of reading on the current material - Charle De Lint's Memory & Dream. de Lint's evocation of Newford is so strong that it invariably leaves me in a non-work mood - more inclined to writing, or visiting cafes or galleries or something. Or going hunting for fey in the Liberties or Temple Bar. The presence of a little old guy on the train who was no more than four feet high and dressed like a monochrome leprechaun (down to the wide belt over the jacket and the odd hat, albeit all in grey tweed) was no help.
By the old bathing buildings near Blackrock, where we went walking on the shore a couple of weeks ago, they're doing some construction work - looks like they're opening the old footbridge again there. What mystified me, though, was that they had a digger there - as in, machine. How they got it there I can't think - either they drove it over the rocks and wet sand from Monkstown or thereabouts, or they brought it in by helicopter.
There were steeplejacks working on the church tower as I was coming up from the train station - ladders running right from about fifteen feet above the ground to the very top, and these two guys almost running up and down them - very disconcerting, given that I've developed a problem with heights in the last few years.
There's too much stuff going on here in work right now -I have five different projects in my head, only one of them actaully mine, and one mysterious issue with payments that I don't quite understand. And there's supposed to be a work night in the pub this evening, but I'm not sure where we're headed, or even if it's on - although I think it is.
I want to go to Edinburgh now, please.
I woke up at 06:30, intending to go to the gym, but felt so tired that I just gave up and went back to sleep. At 07:30, however, I felt like I'd had a full night's sleep in between. The bus and train were slow again, so I got a good bit of reading on the current material - Charle De Lint's Memory & Dream. de Lint's evocation of Newford is so strong that it invariably leaves me in a non-work mood - more inclined to writing, or visiting cafes or galleries or something. Or going hunting for fey in the Liberties or Temple Bar. The presence of a little old guy on the train who was no more than four feet high and dressed like a monochrome leprechaun (down to the wide belt over the jacket and the odd hat, albeit all in grey tweed) was no help.
By the old bathing buildings near Blackrock, where we went walking on the shore a couple of weeks ago, they're doing some construction work - looks like they're opening the old footbridge again there. What mystified me, though, was that they had a digger there - as in, machine. How they got it there I can't think - either they drove it over the rocks and wet sand from Monkstown or thereabouts, or they brought it in by helicopter.
There were steeplejacks working on the church tower as I was coming up from the train station - ladders running right from about fifteen feet above the ground to the very top, and these two guys almost running up and down them - very disconcerting, given that I've developed a problem with heights in the last few years.
There's too much stuff going on here in work right now -I have five different projects in my head, only one of them actaully mine, and one mysterious issue with payments that I don't quite understand. And there's supposed to be a work night in the pub this evening, but I'm not sure where we're headed, or even if it's on - although I think it is.
I want to go to Edinburgh now, please.
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From:
Re: DeLintesque Vision
May not have to wait for that scholarship after all!