No interrupted sleep last night which was better. One side-effect of being woken up by any means at an unusual time is that I usually end up remembering what I'm dreaming. On Friday night I'd been standing in a nondescript room when something fell on my head. I couldn't see what it was but everyone around me was shrieking, pointing and running away. It eventually turned out that there was a nest of spiders or possibly wasps on top of the chunk of plaster which was now sitting on my head. At that point the angry buzzing segued smoothly into the thumping from downstairs. As well as the annoyance of being woken I was annoyed that I wouldn't get to find out what happened next.

I shall consider it a vague success that despite editing 12 images from the cardful retrieved from various points around the city today (when the rain was gentle enough to risk opening the camera bag) to blippable stage this evening (besides some other slightly longer-winded tasks and (finally) attempting to colour-balance my screen so that I stop making everything not taken in blue-tinged dusk-light slightly too warm) I found it relatively easy to pick one to use and didn't go back to fiddle with the few I haven't played with yet just now when I realised I hadn't touched any of the pictures taken after 15:39. I've been trying to get at least a small, Flickrable version of every usable or interesting shot from each processing-sweep so that I can then forget about all the NEFs when I archive them off and back them up. If I can ever be bothered I might one day (possibly before heading out for several hours) run a big batch job on the collected original image files of the past four years to create a nice big directory of JPEG thumbnails, partly to give me half a chance of finding something without having to resort to Googling blip or searching for the tags I probably haven't yet added to Flickr and partly to give me something I can start idly looking through to identify pictures which there's really no point at all in storing due to their boringness, technical incompetence or other not-waste-hard-drive-space-iness.

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