Nightwalking.

This is a thing that I do like, though I felt weighted tonight with everything. I didn't want to bounce; I wanted to balance and weep a bit.

I like it though. I can hit signs and bang the pavement with my feet and it's not odd. And the moon and the streetlights pick out different bits that you don't notice in the day; the red-brick cornicing on the cheapest shops that's been there since victorian times, the low-hanging half-cut orange moon that's broken in one place by a chimney, just for a few steps till I've turned the earth on itself and there's just that orangey orb again, almost like the sun that seems to wait for me round so many different corners, just for me because motorists won't notice it- they won't be looking. Eyes on the road. I like the way the wind hits my cheeks and spurs me to walk faster. I like seeing the stars. I even like the dew on my trainers and the way that nothing's strange at night because it's expected that night is strange.

Eating today:

an egg and soldiers-300

smoothie-120

biscuits-210

chocolate-120

750

sunday dinner-400

biscuits-120

chocolate-120

640

1400

And a 5.3 mile walk, which should burn off about 400 calories. The sunday dinner comprised of 3 roast potatoes, 2 mini yorkshire puddings, stuffing, carrots, broccoli and some other bits of swede and parsnip. And a little bit of chicken but some of it was purple, and that makes me feel strange about eating it because it brings home the fact that it's muscle I'm chewing.

Bugger. I could have been so bloody good in that fucking play, in two fucking plays, but no.

Argh, arrogance.

I didn't get it because it wasn't right. And who wants to work for someone that bloody patronising anyway?