As my car won't officially be back till tomorrow, I thought I'd use the time to visit here early again, last night was a long one, as you can see by the lengthy post below, and I'm feeling the effects today. A week without a car is about as much as I would want, I do have things I have to do now and can't use the few weights I have in the house to make up for missing the gym.
So while I spent yesterday on the computer most of the time, though I've done my usual correpondence already, I am getting back to chores which I can cross of the list one by one while I have nothing else to do. There's actually some TV worth watching tonight, including the Cinderella of all that comes only every 7 years, 49 up. For those who don't live in the UK, it's followed a number of children from what must be 1964 to the present day, in true pre-big brother fashion, watching what they do every 7 years. I actually remember the first one, though as they weave the old with the new it may be the repeats, but I watched TV all my life and probably did see it then. Unfortunately one or two have dropped out, which is always a shame, but it carries on with the second half tonight after the other last week.
So the front door frame's had another coat of paint and I've mowed the lawn, and may start another picture soon as there's no TV for ages. Yesterday I only spoke to the people in the late night grocers, and today I spoke to my neighbour for a minute. I'm becoming a fucking hermit at this rate, and for someone as social as I am means I'm forced to either do what I always did and find ways to amuse myself, or email and phone people I can't see in person. It shows it can't make people strange, as if anything was enough to turn someone peculiar my life would be. I haven't ever talked to myself or any objects, made a shrine to a celebrity, stalked anybody, started a fringe political party or taken drugs, all the things isolation is often blamed for. It's the wrong way round from the weirdos I know at least. They start off relatively normal and then become isolated after they've gone funny as a result rather than a cause. And for me, living in a city makes it far worse as you barely know anyone around you, and there's no small community to get involved with, especially when you all grew up together. I would have been perfect in a small town somewhere where everyone knew each other's business and except for the trips to Newton Abbott or Paignton once a week or two, everything you needed was contained within a couple of miles. Im mention those places as I spent 21 years in Devon every summer plus four easters as well, and people in Totnes, the nearest town, would remember me whenever I arrived though it may have been a year since I was last there. So if I can fit in in a community after a few weeks a year since the age of 8, imagine if I'd lived there all that time. The funny thing is how isolated Dartmoor and beyond into Cornwall is. I used to go riding there and exploring, and now I guarantee some of the farmer's cottages up a mile of tracks a few miles from the nearest other building would be on broadband now, while half of North London isn't. The women are a damn sight easier out there as well, by the way.