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Getting up twice a week at 4:30ish for physiotherapy at 6:15 (don't ask... friend of a friend, and at least this way I can do it, because taking time off from work isn't really an option right now, and it's nice to be able to move my arm again) is throwing me totally out of whack. My sense of time is completely fucked, I sleepwalk through work half of the time, sleep a lot generally speaking, and my dreams are a lot more vivid than my waking life.

M. said she didn't need me at work, so I spent the day shopping for Christmas presents although in the end I only bought jars of paint for my niece (minus red, black and white, which they were out of.. *sigh*), gift-wrap paper, ribbons, cards, and the kind of fancy hot chocolate that comes on the end of a stick, and got more depressed by the minute by the crowds, rampart consumerism and general insanity until in the end I caught myself wishing that I were at work. I used to love the holidays, finding the perfect gift for everyone, Christmas baking, advent markets, but year after year it all lost a bit of meaning until somehow it became nothing more than a chore I wish I could escape. Where did all the joy go? And why?

To download or not to download some of the old Bowie albums from iTunes. Maybe I'm just in a nostalgic mood, but I really want Diamond Dogs and Ziggy Stardust and maybe The Man Who Sold the World, but I have a hard time justifying the expense to myself when I have all the LPs and would only need to finally bring my old record player over from the parents.

Speaking of Bowie though, I really wish someone would make a Torchwood/Jack vid set to Bowie's Time... It's probably too long and not really doable, but still.


solitary summer

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January 2016


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