It was true

Yesterday afternoon a posh little Macbook turned up, smelling of fresh new computer. I still can't believe my eyes, but it's there in its box, it really is!
The grey lining to the silver cloud yesterday afternoon is that a half-dead pigeon turned up on the doorstep about an hour later, just sitting there looking sick and miserable. But I felt honoured that it had chosen my doorstep to expire on, and allowed it a dignified death. Unfortunately, the cat managed to forage it out of the recycling bin and brought it into the house to play throw-the-pigeon-on-the-stairs with, so I had to re-dispose of it.
This morning, I've been working with some budding producer/songwriters, all together in one group. Bit of a challenge- their genres span grime, acoustic, r'n'b, indie. My trusty past as a punk rocker comes in very handy at these times. I reckon if you can survive that, you can survive just about anything; I have been angrier than a lot of angry young men that I come into contact with. Good dose of Poly Styrene followed by a chaser of Billy Stewart at his most ridiculously florid, the brows furrow in puzzlement, out come the mixtapes and off we go.
(still knackering, though)