A great bright dry day, I rolled up my sleeves and got stuck in drawing. That's the way I like to work, before breakfast, before getting dressed, before getting up in a way, so that the night's thoughts are still with me. Because of the deadline for the cleaner, I did stop and shower just before ten, but it breaks the rhythm. Coming back, the mood is more stepped back. Looking critically at what I've done makes me rip up a couple of sheets and wreck another by overcorrecting. At least I finally have the feeling that I might be starting to work properly. Outside influences are a funny thing because it is only afterwards that one sees what they are. Working all day like that was great, but I popped a toffee in my mouth about five pm and you guessed it. With the very first chew I lost a filling. Aaaargh. What a nuisance. What do I do now? My first instinct is to do nothing and carry on until I get back to London even though that is ten weeks away. I'll have to see how bad it gets. It may be slightly throbbing already or is that my hypochondria? After that I went out and bought some more pencils at the art shop. Since I haven't spoken to anyone for so long that I found I'd lost my voice and just a tiny croak came out. Well I'm going to the dogs I must say. Getting on the M1 tram to go to the organic shop, blow me down but a car ran into the tram and we all had to get out and walk. As far as could be discerned, no one was much hurt but the front of the car was smashed in and would have to be towed away. That is so weird because the roads are very quiet with never much traffic on them and the trams run on fixed rails. Bicycles, cars, people; everything has to give way. They are implacable and have to be obeyed. Evidently being run over by a tram killed Gaudi the genius architect. Not paying attention, I guess, like the driver tonight. Boiled potatoes, cheese, a banana for supper for me, nothing chewy
