Jeremy Dennis is Jeremy Day (cleanskies) wrote,
Jeremy Dennis is Jeremy Day

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fridge magnet madness, west pie, nightmares about word html

fridge madnessMy first week as a manager has left me severely drained, and the pieces of paper on the table just sat there and were only that, pieces of paper. Even after I cleared the drawing board, threw out the dead pens, rediscovered my rotrings and the brush pen, yes, even after that. Even after I went through the collage shelves and rearranged them to take every last loose blank book, completed piece and WIP I could find, yes, even after that. I was going to take some photos instead, but even that didn't work. So I did this instead.

West Pier tourMinions, deadlines, a delayed laptop and an imminent hardware refresh have left me a bit stressy and frantic. In an attempt to defuse all this I've been working quite hard in the evenings on odd things like putting my several-years gone visit to Brighton's West Pier online. It's in the water now, so no-one's going out there any more, and anyway architects keep whinging that the old pier was tacky and ugly and what we want now is a nice modern pier, probably made of steel cables and glass. With them as the designer, naturally.

What Flavour Are You? I taste like Menthol.I taste like Menthol.

I am refreshingly different; some people don't appreciate that. My sharp honesty gets up some people's noses, while others really enjoy it. I am something of an acquired taste. What Flavour Are You?
Track 2 is still sat on the table, looking up at me with big eyes and a half-pencilled first column, and I can't help but remember that it took me around *seven weeks* to move Track 1 from rough to finished. I've used my calm-work mind up on my job this week I think -- all I've had left in the evenings is frantic-juddery mind, which barely has the concentration to rearrange fridge magnets on a cake-tin bottom. I work badly, and don't know when to stop, so it's been a week of late nights, and at the end of them sleep which is full of anxiety dreams about work, occasionally in particularly barbaric html.

So, instead of sitting and staring at all the stuff I should be working on, I'm going to go to London this Sunday and see my little sister Ellē (assuming she doesn't get the baby call and have to accompany other sister Alex to the hospital) and we'll look at Anish Kapoor and maybe also the Mayans.

Red and blue. It'll be good.

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