Back again

As I'll be busy later on, I'm here relatively early, on my first full day off this week. My chronic fatigue goes through phases and for some reason I've been knackered most of the time since Monday. Working of course didn't help, as having to work when I'm tired already compounds the situation and each effort takes longer to get over.
But I've made plans and managed to stick to them. Now I have Flickr Pro I think of new places to take photos of, and add to my pools such as trains and road signs. It's a complete view of suburban North London that I know well, for locals and people abroad who would never see it otherwise. There are both really nice places round here and others I simply call home. West Hendon, where I went yesterday, is a good example. It's mainly a total shit hole. But my shit hole. Fantastic shops, though the parking, like all nearby and beyond, is virtually verboten. So I often go on my bike, or just don't bother at all.

So having decided to start a group for Finchley Road (where I worked for 5 years as well as used all my life) today's mission was to continue the pictorial views south to Child's Hill. I probably missed one bit as I spotted some nice houses and took a diversion, but that's the fun of photo trips, you usually spot extra views. Since I got the digital camera in November two scenes have already gone, the sign for Brent Cross station, and the garage at the bottom of my old road that was built in the 30s. I've seen other views people have taken which have changed drastically and only in a couple of years, so if you don't snap it you'll never see it as it was again.

Then I had the great pleasure (not) of returning a mouldy piece of cheese to the local emporium which is one of the few remaining since we lived here in the early 60s, though under different ownership. Now I have a couple of hours to kill/free before my friend arrives. Probably shite on the TV, and in the last few days I've wrung out every last part of the internet, so have a little gap. One mystery is where my readers have gone. Apart from my 2 regulars, all the others appear to visit but none comment any more, even on my request to. Most of the people I know would do, so I can only assume they've stopped reading and the replacements just don't bother to comment. Now apart from 2 blogs on my list all the others have either stopped altogether/near enough or gone off at a tangent. One doesn't even read mine (unless he doesn't comment) but is one I continue to marvel at, especially as even if he made up half of it he's still got the busiest life I've ever come across, except for having no girlfriend.
Even at that age, though I was busy, I was never that busy. I doubt anyone was. I won't go on about it, as you can read it yourself, but it never ceases to amaze me. I go on about dragging myself to the grocers and taking photos in Golders Green, though from home I am admittedly pretty darn creative. The last time I was going abroad would have been around 1999 on another day trip (leave yourself wanting more, it works for me) but when I told my grandma I wanted to go to Ireland for the day she wanted to come with.

That would have meant picking her up, probably a few hours earlier than I would have intended to go, and told I wasn't wearing suitable clothes, I didn't know the right route to the airport, to stop complaining about the service, where are you going, did you wash your hands, etc etc for the rest of the day. No thanks. So rather than go on my own and receive her total dismay for not taking her (it's impossible to hide anything from her, trust me) I just didn't go. Then I was put on tablets that made me sleep so much I could never wake up in time to get a flight early enough to do a day trip. I'm not going to France again just to go abroad- the drive to the coast is half a day and with the congestion charge you'd have to pay just to get there. Calais is OK a couple of times, Lille I have only passed through but is far more expensive as you have to take the train, and they don't have the hovercraft any more and I won't go by boat again. So as soon as I find myself up when the time says am and I'm not busy, now grandma's not up to it, I hope to make it there as planned so long ago. Health permitting of course. Since I reached the point where I no longer go to places to add to my list I really don't care. I missed football last night as I was working (but probably far too tired to go) and I don't care. I've been to Barnet about 25 times and one or two more won't change my life that drastically.

My new career path is not adding countries and football matches but TV appearances and published work. That is where I'm the performer and others are looking, as I always wanted. So while I wait the apparently endless 2 months to hear the first TV date I have to carry on as if nothing's happening as it's done and I still have to carry on until it's shown. So I do, and as long as the tiredness lifts hope that'll carry on.