My Life Is Not Such An Unremitting Vale Of Tears As I May Sometimes Imply

[liadnan]

It has been pointed out to me, from time to time, that I give the impression of being, frankly, either pissed off or mildly depressed most of the time, particularly here.

In truth, I'm reasonably cheerful most of the time these days, a little ray of sunshine no less. Well, not that perhaps, but generally fine.

As I write this, I'm rather more than fine... I'm sitting on the top of Primrose Hill, the sun is shining, I've cast several clouts though May isn't even in, yet alone out, Palestrina's Missa Dum Complerentur (Westminster Cathedral Choir cond. My Friend Martin) is doing its best to convince me that there is indeed a God, and there's a little green bottle, a little yellow bottle, and some ice helping with the argument.

So yah boo sucks to you all. The laptop battery may soon run out, and there are two files at home requiring attention, but for the present life is fine.

Things weren't quite so good when I woke up. This is largely my own fault: I decided on impulse to join Steve, along with Brendan and Guy, in the Albion.... After much whisky, and some absurd pontificating on music on my part, I did manage to make my own way home and even start making some pasta, as I hadn't eaten all day. Unfortunately I then fell asleep on the sofa, and was only woken just in time to stop my saucepan becoming a casualty. At that point I decided discretion was the better part of valour and went and lay down on my bed, still fully dressed: the next thing I knew John Peel was telling Odd Little Tales of Daily Life on Radio 4 and I felt like death.