Day 35: Poor Effort

Today I had two jobs - one at 9.30 in the morning; one at 4.00pm.  Both relatively unpleasant (I say relatively, as there was no actual violence, decomposition, or juggling - so not seriously unpleasant).  The sort of situation which leads to an in-the-moment out-of-body sensation.  Like I'm standing above and behind myself.  And always the same question - 'How have I come here?'  I've asked that question too many times recently.  Take heed, self.   

In between the two unpleasances, with time on my hands and the option of cinema or Christmas shopping, I took the obvious route.  The choice?  'Midnight in Paris' or 'We Need To Talk About Kevin'.  I chose Kevin.  I've read the book.  I didn't expect eggnog and Jennifer Aniston.  But I wasn't quite prepared for the impact of the film.  Tilda Swinton's haunted, wintry face.  That slight hint of hope in the final frame worthless in light of the wreckage preceding it.  Beyond bleak. 

Talking of which, lunch at Leon on Old Compton Street.  A nutritional 'up yours' - a slap of rice, a smear of sweet potato, a wipe of yoghurt.  An insult with a napkin on the side.  Five pounds only.  No, Leon.  I want to like you, but you make it impossible. 

So.  Reasons to keep on breathing.  1.  The moon - it's back and almost full (tomorrow) and it's the most beautiful thing I've seen today.  Hooray, hooray, hooray for the moon.  2.  Tomorrow is Saturday.  3.  That days like this are necessary to prompt change.  4.  That there was no actual violence, decomposition or juggling.  So far... 

(I know.  Poor effort.  2/10.)