investigations of a dag

By kasty

bleary teary

you walk to work more or less the same route every day then one day, a bank holiday you don't get, you look left and spot something you've never seen before. There all along. From a corner that's not part of your life a female face looks back you. A symbolism I don't understand but it caught my attention anyway.

I exerted my freedom of choice to be a few mins late and ponder this cryptic prettiness pasted to a gallery door. If only all of us looked this pretty weeping, rather than blowing snot bubbles or creasing our chins into face cellulite. Or is that just me?.

A quiet day at work, so felt the faint whiff of getting through a few things before they are chewed up by political wrangling. Also enjoyed a lovely "freedom lunch" from my lovely work friend Christian. Sushi bento box and wonderful chat on the mysterious nature of sleep and what worms dream about, and does a worm halved dream the same dream... etc..

After that some strenuous yoga and elated endorphinated chat with good friend Fara who wants me to do a piece for her book blog I love it and am rightfully intimidated. Will need to come up with something good.

Then I made 5 minute orange juice fish and salad and wrote a list of all the books, emails and writing I am supposed to catch up on before utterly ignoring it in favour of a huge sticky swirling black mass of video streamed mystery that spilled out from my laptop screen. With one great "YAAAAaaaa" and "Taaaak" it ate my brain this evening. Yes, I've back on TV narrative smack again, this time Scandinavian crime thrillers. I've tried to avoid the killing etc.. but The Bridge just ate me all up. 4 episodes in and hooked. Help. Send pastries and coffee.

Tomorrow I get to tell the team I am quitting. Maybe I should pull this face to avoid questions?

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