My back’s still sort of locked up, but at least I’ve left the apartment today. I picked up a package that’s been teasing me for almost a week. Yes, those are more vinyls, what of it? Streaming music just isn’t the same, and if the mix is good, then I prefer a physical record. Granted, I have a pretty solid audio setup…
The re-issue of PLP’s three albums (self-titled debut not pictured, I already own that one) was a treat. 3 is an album I keep coming back to. Red Sonic Underwear hasn’t aged as well, but give the debut, and 3, a listen on your favorite streaming platform (search for “peace love and pitbulls”). The digital releases are remastered as well, with some extra songs and remixes. Looking forward to those.
Still imprisoned due to my locked up back, but I like to think it’s getting better. You’d think that this would be a great opportunity to catch up on some writing, but alas, that’s not the case. I can’t be static for too long, and the constant pain isn’t exactly inspiring. I’m getting some things done though, but this is looking like a lost week to me. Never fun that, never fun.
My back’s keeping me from going to the studio, and doing any sort of serious work whatsoever really. It’s not fun at all, and my apartment is now something of a prison. I hate being forced to stay indoors like this, it’s so limiting. Patience is a virtue and all that, but when it comes to these things, I’m struggling.
Writing’s gone well. That’s the good part. The bad part is that my back has locked up. It has happened before, probably something pinching a nerve. I’m stretching, taking pain killers, and trying to get the blood flowing by laying on a bed of nails. It’s working, because it’s a lot better than it was last night. My dreams were of pain, and then waking up I felt said pain. It wasn’t a pleasant night at all. I’ve had to take out my cane, which got some use almost two years ago when I had problems with my left foot, for fear of falling over if pain hits while I hobble for more coffee in my apartment.
Ah, the joys of the body, eh? Back when I was a teenager, I had both knee and back problems. They were due to growth spurts, and too much tennis, golf, and football. Well, perhaps not too much, but that was what it felt like, and that was what made things worse. This current episode sure brings back some memories in that regard.
I calculate that I have about 8,000 words left on the project I aim to finish this Easter. Well, I had this morning, I’ve been grinding it down since then. I’d like for it to be no more than 3,000 words left when I call it a night, which would leave ample time to finish the manuscript tomorrow. All according to plan, one might say, but failure is always an option in this world of ours. Wish me luck.
I’ve spent the morning reading, first the newspaper and then digging into my list in Pocket. The past few weeks have seen precious few reading sessions, it’s been busy as you probably have noticed. Still is.
Today’s agenda consists of banging out a bunch of words, and going for a walk in the sun. Sounds pretty good to me. I’m starting with the former. Here we go.
Enjoying a cigar with Jesper and Agnes
A brand new sticker from Japan
I should know better by now, I really should. You can’t put a bottle of bourbon on the table if both Anders and I are present. Hence, the contents of said bottle disappeared last night, and suddenly it was past 4am again. Oh well, good times, and today hasn’t been too bad either. Parts of me apparently still behaves like I’m 25…
Tonight will be more reasonable, I think. On the other hand, Jesper and Agnes are popping over, so it could go either way. Better chill the Martini glasses then!
Last day before the Easter long weekend, and I’m sore from working out. I’m spending the weekend writing, got things to wrap up, and I’m looking forward to checking of a bunch of those. There might be an egg or two, but just because I need nutrition, not for any bunny-related reasons. But first: Drinks in the studio. Bring it on, weekend!
There’s an airport I dream about from time to time. It doesn’t exist, or if it does, I’ve never been there, which is a creepy idea of a transit station for your being if there ever was one. Anyway, in these dreams I’m generally late, have forgotten my passport, gotten separated from a beloved one, stressful things like that. I wonder what it means? I mean, other than being a reminder to have proper packing lists so that you don’t forget your passport on your next intercontinental foray.
The sun finally broke through in Stockholm. It’s a lovely day outside, and not too shabby in the studio either. The light really shines in here, and the place looks better than ever after the pimping session last night. We’re getting there, using what we have, with some things scavenged from Helena’s basement. Yeah, I don’t dare ask either…