I'm sat listening to Mozart's Requiem, sipping a pint of Murphy's and reflecting on my day. It doesn't take much reflecting. At one point, during the cleaning of my studio space, I fell over and hurt my toe. A little later, replacing the vacuum cleaner, I disturbed my bong which was inexplicably still full of water. It fell and broke in half but also splashed my painting-in-progress, which made me a little unhappy that Pat had simply placed the bong on the bookshelf without, at least, emptying the foul water. That I have now done, inadvertently. I'm cleaning up, incidentally, because Colin and Tony are coming tomorrow. There will no doubt be curry but also Cirklon will advance some more and Colin will see how I work and probably sigh a bit.

My toe's aching a bit and as today is our "telly-free" day, I'm now returning to the Vonnegut I'm reading. I notice when I read dear old Kurt that my sentences get short and snappy. He really does inspire me to write more than any other writer. I wonder if that would amuse him? If so, his smile would quickly fade when he sees the number of semicolons I use.

Sent in review this morning along with screen dump. That should be that. No word from Liz but fortunately no hurry from me. Will email her towards the end of the week if still nothing. I've pottered with a few pieces that might become something if needed.

No reply from Picko re: his new track. He's either fuming quietly or doing something else.