Page proof editing my own work begins to convince me that what I have written is my academic juvenalia. I must remind myself that if I'm ever going to write academic juvenalia, the appropriate time to do so is at the very beginning of my career. That, and I'm too close to my own writing to have any decent perspective on how it reads.
I bought lovely new fine-tipped pens, each a different color - the highlight of yesterday. For all the pens in my life, I didn't have a functional fine-tipped blue or red one when I needed it.
I enjoyed watching the Olympics, my first ever. I particularly liked the uninterrupted events courtesy of BBC 2's digital extra channels. There were tarot cards and the major arana in paper-mâché in the closing ceremonies; this appealed to my personifying instincts.
I had a pleasant lunch with five complete strangers today, aka crabbyoldbats. When trying to track down a group whose appearance is as yet unknown, it is a relief to find that the meeting place is a small, quiet restaurant.
While the scanner is busy scanning every few minutes, I've been flitting about cleaning and organizing. A houseguest arrives tonight, and a deadline involving page-proofs must be met.
Overheard on Old Compton Street on Saturday: "I need a boutique!"