Well, dear readers, let me just say this: This. There, that felt good. One simply must say this every now and then – it’s just done. But what I really want to say is that I spent the whole of yesterday thinking it was Monday. I have no idea why, but it just felt like a damn Monday. But it wasn’t Monday, it was Sunday, and Sunday, as we all know, is the day we should be in the park with George. Of course, George probably wasn’t in the park at all and heaven knows WHAT he was doing, but hopefully he’ll let us know in the posts. Anyway, I wonder if I’ll spend the whole of today thinking it’s Tuesday? Or Sunday? I am, in a word, discombobulated. Part of the yesterday issue was only four hours of sleep. I may start taking Melatonin again – I haven’t been because I’m taking all these other pills and it’s like the damn Valley of the Dolls in the Valley right now. So, here’s the rundown of yesterday. I was up around eight, I answered a small number of e-mails, and then I began proofing again. I continued that throughout the day, taking breaks for food and a motion picture. I did make some progress and am now over halfway through. I’m hoping the second half will be easier. I’d pre-ordered a sub called The Godfather. Turkey, salami, roast beef, lettuce, cheese, Eyetalian dressing. It arrived at one and was HUGE, HUMUNGOUD, GARGANTUAN. I could barely get my mouth wide enough to actually take a bite. Well, this sandwich screwed up my mouth muscles so badly that I had speech articulation issues again for the first time in two weeks. Really irritating, so I did not eat the second half of it. It’s in the fridge but I’m not touching it with a ten-foot Pole or a five-foot Czech, especially the latter, as I’m told the Czech is in the mail. We don’t allow groaning here at haineshisway.com. Speech issues finally abated and I’ve been fine since. In addition to the sandwich, I also got a thing of chicken salad, which I thought would make a good snack. It didn’t look that good and had cranberries in it. But when I finally got around to putting some on a bagel, it was really good – just simple chicken salad with cranberries and celery – a little sweet, a little crunch – and I think it will last another few days.
I did watch a motion picture, an early 1980s TV movie entitled Prime Suspect, not to be confused with the motion picture I directed, also entitled Prime Suspect, nor the English TV series, also entitled Prime Suspect. It was one of those wrong man stories – a serial killer is killing young, blonde schoolgirls, and an innocent man, played by Mike Farrell, is brought in for questioning, the media jumps on it, and everyone just assumes he’s guilty, even though he’s never charged with the crime. He’s finally vindicated at the end when the real guy is finally caught and confesses. The writing is the culprit here, along with the direction of Noel Black. The cops may as well be twirling moustaches in villainy, they’re played so broadly, with every look and gesture screaming YOU’RE GUILTY. Not just the cops, but every person in town, in his work – I mean, you don’t direct that as a melodrama. Everyone in the cast overplays, with the exception of Teri Garr, who’s very good as a TV reporter who finally takes the guy’s side. Her boss at the TV station must have been really hungry, because he’s chewing the scenery voraciously. And as always happens in these kinds of movies, all the jerk cops and the TV news guy and the creeps who assume he’s guilty, never have to own up to their mistake. We just never hear from them again – it’s a real failing for stories like this. Anyway, it wasn’t horrible. Noel Black certainly started out interestingly and made the interesting cult feature, Pretty Poison, but after that his handful of features aren’t good and then it was right into TV for the rest of his career. I took all the necessary pills.
Then I had some chicken salad on a bagel – very good – did a bit more proofing and am now listening to an album of John Barry movie themes written by John Barry and conducted by John Barry. He was a wonderful composer, with so many iconic film scores to his credit. Now playing, a sixteen-minute suite of his James Bond themes. Fantastic.
Today, I’ll be up when I’m up, I’ll hopefully remember it’s Monday, I’ll proof, the helper is coming by at one-thirty to pick up more books for orders that came in and this time I’ll give her a couple of extras just to have on hand. I pre-ordered food, but that doesn’t come until five, as the restaurant doesn’t open until four, so I’ll have a little something to tide me over, something small in the morning, same for the afternoon. Today I add a new pill to the mix, but I only take it (or them) once a week. So, in addition to the three-a-day and the Prednisone, I take four of these little puppies today, too. Dolls! Sparkle, BK, Sparkle! I’ll continue proofing as much as I can, then I’ll watch, listen, and relax.
The rest of the week is more of the same plus a couple of meetings and meals.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up when I’m up, hopefully remember what day it is, have a brief helper visit, proof, snack, take many pills, eat at five, proof, then watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: What are the most number of pills you’ve had to take in one day? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, after which I shall be a dolls-popping poop and believe me, I shall sparkle, BK, sparkle.