After painting and cleaning up, I washed myself using baby wipes - the old Glastonbury trick, there. I headed out to the railway station so I could do my London gig that night. Why I had agreed to give up the night of a Bank Holiday Monday in order to go and do 10 minutes in a pub in London for no money is anyone's guess.
As I was walking to the station, a friend called me, and I wished that I could have skipped this gig and spent the evening in their company instead. That would have been more fun. However, my plans were set and I'm not a dirty welcher. So, I headed to London.
I had healthy food on the way to London. This was part of my continuing plan to be healthy, which I discovered was matched by the loss of some weight since I was last weighed. The potted history of my August weight goes thus. I lost 9 pounds between leaving Reading and returning back from my Newcastle/Edinburgh trip. One week on and the total had increased to 11 pounds. If I continue having no time to eat much, as I've been doing at work this last week, and if I continue avoiding the stupid eating habits I'm most obviously capable of, then I might be able to break through the weight barriers of old. I think I'm only a couple of pounds away from my lowest weight in the last 12 years.
I should feel great.
I feel a bit empty.
I feel like some of my shirts might be a bit big for me.
On the train I read my book on the Pink Floyd album - "Dark Side of the Moon". Good book.
At the gig, I went and did my 10 minutes and then got right back on the train and headed home. I couldn't be hanging around the gig. It had been a nice crowd and everything, but I really wanted to be home in time for a nearly-early night.
The rail journey home was quite harried. There were a bunch of people back from the Notting Hill Carnival. They were in such high spirits that a row just accompanied them. Though the half dozen or so revved up lads left the train a few stops back, the motormouth girl from hell, blethered on the phone to her mother and her friend's boyfriend, for much of the time. My mind was partly on my book and partly on her constant jibber jabber. In fairness, she was quite a jaunty young lady and perhaps I was a bit snobbish in my disregard for her capacity to say anything of any value. She could certainly say stuff emphatically and made me laugh a few times with stuff she said. She was talking to her friend about how boys can't, "you know, conversate". I like that. I have a conversation, so I must be conversating. Neat.
Had I been in as excitable mood as this girl, I bet we could have had a well-wicked conversate. As it was, she danced the line between amusing and tiresome. I finished my Pink Floyd book and moved on to a very funny book by Robin Cooper - The Timewaster Diaries. Sadly, much of the detail of this book was forgotten with the jibber jabber backdrop competing with it.
I walked from the railway station back home and didn't get an early night. Instead, I finally got a recording down of my new song. I'd been singing it in my natural key while out and about and had recorded myself doing so - as a result, I was to discover, by playing the recording next to my piano, that I wanted to sing it in A flat minor. Sounds like a joke, I know. As I'm a crap pianist, I used the transpose feature on my piano and played it in C minor, which is the key I wrote it in - it came out in A flat minor and everyone's a winner. I was happy enough with the version I recorded to consider it complete.
That took my total of songs recorded up to 5 for the weekend. However, I also downloaded some chords off the internet for a song which had been meandering around in my head on the walk home. Unlike the other songs, which I'd recorded a track at a time, in some cases up to 8 layers. This song I just wanted to play with. So, I put the microphone stand at the piano - rather than across the room - and improvised a piano part while singing. After a few goes, I had something I quite liked. Song 6 - all 9 seconds of it.
I would have gone straight to bed, but I had to listen to my work a couple of times first. Narcissistic or what!?
Still, the bank holiday weekend had been productive. The shower room was painted, I'd done 3 gigs, I'd started work on my downstairs wet rooms (discovering new problems to blight me) and I'd recorded more songs in one go than I've done since 2004 while achieving a lower weight than I had when I did it.