Well, that was an odd day. Unusal some might say. Not strange, I wouldn’t go so far as strange but … mildly irregular.
In a pleasant sort of way.
It started off reasonably enough with me on a train to London for …
Actually, it started with me in bed with my beautiful wife. Starting on a train would in itself be weird.
But there I was, later on, at the beginning of the story if not the beginning of the day, on a train to London and reading a rather spiffing script. My destination – Victoria. My reason for travelling – nice ones. I was undertaking the completely un-perilous journey for two reasons – to sign contracts and to receive feedback on a treatment; both for THE BIG IDEA.
Remember THE BIG IDEA?
No? I would link to it, but the icing is drying and I can’t be arsed.
Ah, getting ahead of myself, the icing comes later. Suffice it to say, if you want to know about THE BIG IDEA there’s a search box to the left which will bring you very little useful information.
Anyway, it’s all good. There’s that slight trepidation when receiving notes – just in case they tell you it’s the biggest pile of shit since the great dinosaur diarrhea epidemic of … um … last Wednesday? No. Dinosaurs are a bit older than that, aren’t they? Can’t remember and it doesn’t matter.
So part of me’s going “urk, they’re going to rip the contracts up in front of me and eat them, laughing at how unbelievably bad I am at treatment writing” while another part of me’s going “fuck it, it’s a work of genius, they’ll fucking love it and they’re fucking lucky to have it” and a third part of me’s going “where the hell’s the trolley girl? I want a cup of tea”.
The meeting, as it happens was fine – thanks for asking – but it was after the meeting. After! That was the weird part. For reasons which now escape me, shortly after the meeting I found myself in the secure bit of a police station having a discussion with an officer about whether or not criminal behaviour is genetic.
Now I don’t really like police stations, I find they bring back old memories of a mildly misspent youth. Nothing major, nothing you’d be able to pin down as particularly criminal … just a bit … naughty.
It’s not massively strange, there were no ostriches or adults with babies’ heads or anything – it was just something I wasn’t really expecting to do when I woke up this morning. And hey, they let me out again so that was a bonus.
And now, for reasons I’m not really prepared to go into, I’m trying to cut intricately shaped, tiny cats out of blue icing.
Like I say not strange, just a little unusual.