Caterpillar

Life moves like a caterpillar- crushed up in one part and stretched out in another. I was so excited and nervous yesterday about the recording that I used up the whole day's energy in an hour and had to rest when I got home. Later, I went to Housman's Bookshop for a very laid-back chat about the book (they were expecting me to bring copies to sell but I haven't got any) and a laid-back unplugged sing. Dawn Saunders from the Objekts came- such a long time since I've seen her, it was lovely to catch up with her. Peter Knight came, still glowing from the morning's singing. Two people turned up just as I was packing up to go home.There was wine, and police sirens whooping in the background (well, it is in King's Cross).
And so today, even though I've been working at the University of the East, and in spite of the fact that there was a (false) fire alarm and a real fire-engine turned up, I was bored. I wanted exciting studio experiences, I wanted to be writing backing vocals, I wanted to be having ideas about songs, I wanted to be building up layers of sound like sculptures in music.
I ate a sandwich.
I looked at my computer.
I looked at my computer again. I drank coffee.
I drank water.
I looked at papers.
I gently complained about hopeless situations with jobsworthies that will never be resolved.
I drank more coffee, and mused on the emasculating (effeminating?) effect of possessing a red plastic flask. What a nerd I am!
I shared some pink and yellow alphabet sherbets with Julia who I share an office with. They match the pink throw she brought in to disguise the beige chair (who invented that bloody colour? Surely the devil!).
I did enjoy listening to the songwriters, who are getting more confident by the second.
But
I wanted to be playing gigs in Ireland and Scotland and Wales.
My fingers yearned to be picking the guitar. My voice told my brain, 'I am for singing'.
Music has taken me over.
Tingaling!