It was good to get out today. I’d stayed in yesterday to save much-needed money and was considering the same today until tonight’s gigs, but one day indoors, and I’ve got cabin fever. Getting out and coming here was important.
I had an early start this morning, as always. Comes with the insomniac territory. The desktop PC again blew yesterday which means another weekend where I can’t switch off and relax. A friend will be coming over again, hopefully this time with the right tools, to see how it can be repaired. Looking like a new SSD is required, unless, worryingly, it’s the flat’s electrics. In the meantime, I’m working on the runaround laptop until then.
I’ve got two gigs tonight and travel-wise, I’ve given myself a rather stressful travel situation. I’ve spent two hours trying to work out the best route and even went to my local overground station to run it past the clerk there. Thorough.
Tonight’s second gig is one of my favourite nights and fairly local to me. It’s typical of me that I could’ve had an easy journey there tonight and savoured what is a good night. Unfortunately, my initial request for a spot ended up in their spam some weeks ago, and by the time they got back to me, I’d already committed to the first gig in east London. I don’t like to pull out of gigs. It’s poor form, so I just need to do my best tonight with the travel and hope the overground isn’t playing up.
Meantime, in the café, Seb K chats to me about the political situation in Brazil as news comes through on Portuguese TV showing on the high-mounted screen that Bolsonaro has accepted his elections defeat. I’m always thankful I don’t live in a country where people take to the street when an election doesn’t go their way. Mind you, post-2016, the UK’s decline has certainly given us a taste of the political volatility that a huge chunk of the world’s population are familiar with.
This afternoon’s plan, some light rehearsals and a 5k run.
Donald Duck, the 70-something woman with the, well, Donald Duck voice, a serial throat clearer, enters with some spectacularly loud throat clearing. I hope she doesn’t live in a poorly converted flat, otherwise her throat clearing must be a nightmare for her neighbours.
Seb K hasn’t asked if I want another latte as he collects my tall glass, but then as he reaches the bar, he calls out to me, “Decaf?”
I nod.
A smooth exchange.
It’s nice to be in a place where people know your habits.
I’ll miss Seb K when he finally leaves for Portugal. I’d been coming here three years by the time he started here in the summer of 2004. It took me 18 years to develop that rapport with him and now I’m poised to lose it.
Unless I move with him…
I’ll end with a Star Wars Football update. Tattooine overcame their disappointment at failing to secure an eighth league title by overcoming underdogs Zeffo in last night’s Champions League Final. A narrow 1-0 win, an own goal by Bespin Solo, gave the men from the sandy planet their fourth consecutive Champions League crown and they dominated from start to finish. This Friday night, Tattooine face off against new league champions Hoth in the FA Cup Final replay after the weekend’s 2-2 draw.
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