3rd July 2021

"I was going to talk about an event from 'this time last year' except it was not last year, it was 2019. I struggle to work out how old I am for much the same reason. I woke up at an entirely unreasonable 4am today. I then drank half a litre of water and then listened to the rain fall for an hour. Insomnia begets insomnia; last night I could not sleep because I am worrying about many things.

1am: accommodation for a larp in 2022. The busy brain continues to be busy. What if? How do I explain this? I am very tired. Very tired.

This was my 2am conversation: I think the google doc glitch yesterday messed me up more than I understood at the time. I have backups. I keep fairly meticulous records and copies, but things do go wrong. QNAPs were hit by a ransomeware attack in May 2020, that took out one set of backups; worse I did not realise for several days because I rarely look on that drive for anything other than music (which was unaffected) I went around and around the circle last night. I'm pretty sure I know what caused the bug, I am pretty sure I lost nothing. If I did it was no more than a day's work. I have to assume that I did lose that day's work and repeat it - checking references, yay.

4am: the words to the Lord's Prayer spring to mind. Or rather the fact that I can't remember them. I recall that it has been changed in my life time, and that the version I know (or knew) derives mainly from the Siouxie and the Banshees cover version.

6am My eyes feel dried out, like burnt candyfloss left out in the sun. I am typing this, drinking coffee, and yawning so wide that my ears have popped.

I am stiff this morning, the kind of stiffness that should not be available in a body which has not slept properly. Some of this derives from the gym, some from being over 50, and the rest I must put down to some vengeful God, presumably because inserting the words

"I'll get you in the end.

O! O! Shake it, shake it, baby,

Shake it, shake it, baby, now.

Twist and shout! Ow!

A knife, a fork, a bottle, and a cork

That's the way you spell New York."

into spoken supplication is forbidden somewhere or other?

But between sacrificing parts of my thesis to Shub Internet, Avatar of Ethernet and Eater of Lines, and sacrificing sleep to the minions of Gorlak the Many Tentacled one I should be ahead on points. In a simpler time, it was only a concern about feet

[3rd July, 2019]

What is on my mind?

"Tomorrow's larp and the inevitable age/body image issues that come with playing someone TWENTY YEARS my junior. Someone has posted some well meaning advice that players get a pedicure because they will be walking about barefoot. I will not, in fact, be doing that; I have two broken toes, scars, and burn marks. Also, the last time I had painted toenails was not my fault; Emma did it while I was wasted at a party and I forgot about it and then went and trained kickboxing two days later. This caused some consternation, particularly as the Sensei was also called "Emma" and when someone remarked on it I said "Oh, Emma did that" .. thus confusion follows me on wings of Chaos. Small things though affect the balance of play. Well meaning advice turns to worry turns to a sapping of joy.

I am held together with a glass of Cabernet and a small cut on the cheek. So fragile, so very fragile, that the whispers of strangers could force me into a million tears."