There's a guy who's been awake since the Second World War
I slept another eight hours last night. I don't feel any better rested, but I have to assume it's good for me. I got up at half past nine for a singing lesson and almost didn't feel someone was unraveling my brain through my eyes. I walked most of the way home from Belmont; spent the afternoon on my boring job. Tonight I proofread half a Greek dialogue and made five honeycakes. I could go for some kind of diaspora trifecta if I translated something in Ladino.

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Nine
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I don't know that it was lovely. It was slightly positive and unremarkable; it was a day that was not actively bad, which at this point I'll take.
But.
WHY AM I NOT IN LONDON WATCHING TILDA SWINTON INTRODUCE A CANTERBURY TALE?
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Damn. The galaxy owes you this.
I so wish you could be there.
Nine
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I don't suppose you have a teleporter?
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You win this thread.