Paid €20 at lunchtime for, basically, a precise replica of what my mother and her hippie friends would have eaten before heading off to protest about something in 1979. Hippie food is very modish in Brussels at the moment, but if I needed a bland, underseasoned, brown, vegetable curry accompanied by a jar of carrot flavoured baby food, I could summon one up pretty accurately from my childhood memories, thanks.
Very sore eye.
Achievements today limited to some regretfully light invoicing, admin and about 150 words.
It has been raining solidly for about 24 hours and I am cold and out of sorts and have agreed to go to a BELGIAN SAUNA tonight. I am full of fear, because when I used to work in an office (ah, the halcyon days of antitrust), my office mate told me repeatedly that she and her husband "had great sex" after visits to the sauna, so now it looms large in my mind as a hotbed of unbridled eroticism and I don't really do eroticism or nudity or even saunas. Will there be men who look like Peter Stringfellow in tiny thong underwear like at the Porchester Turkish Baths "mixed" sessions? What if I enjoy it? I haven't been this repressed for nearly 40 years just to throw it all away in tepid jacuzzi in a Brussels suburb.
Two minor work anxieties evaporated.
Bought, and ate most of, a gigantic tiramisu. Also bought some dark chocolate and sea salt cookies (if you are Brussels based, can I advise you in the strongest terms to acquire some of these?). Hopefully this will make up for the hippy food and stave off muesli malnutrition.
Prog Rock brought my attention to Steve Bell's delightful coverage of the Sarkozy affair (here and here, I hope there will be more)
An excellent gchat exchange with my friend F about my nudity fears and Pokemon (it always ends with Pokemon, with us), culminating in me reciting the Pokemon theme tune to her in French, to her great enchantment. "It's like Racine!" I reckon I could recite the Pokemon theme (actually, any one of the three Pokemon themes) by heart in the manner of Nick Cave era Kylie reciting the lyrics to I Should Be So Lucky. As performance art.
Not having a day like the Reluctant Launderer, holy christ.
Neither up nor down:
Very peculiar dream about trying to take a horse on an extremely delayed Metropolitan Line train. On the basis of my dream reality (and indeed basic common sense), I don't recommend it.
25% ongoing mutinousness
10% leaking boots
10% Should I watch Common? I hear it's grim as a baby animal burial ground in the Siberian tundra.
5% no desire to learn to make "salsify kimchi", thanks