It's 10.30pm and we have cabin fever. Nathan and I have been sitting next to each other or opposite each other 24/7 for the last four days. We're either on the sofa, in bed, or down the road in an office in Kentish Town. Sometimes we walk from one place to another. Sometimes we take a bus. We have not yet found a bus which will take us from the sofa to our bed, but there's still time!
We've made a somewhat random decision to drive to the first service station on the M1, where we're going to treat ourselves to a hot chocolate 1960s new-wave style. At the services, Nathan's going to knit and I'm going to do an hour's work on my Brass score. It just breaks up the monotony of life! Gets us out the house...
I think it's maybe a little tragic that I'm so excited about going, but I genuinely love service stations at night. There's a hum, a kind of static charge, which I suspect comes from the fact that they are such intensely busy places during the day that they accumulate an energy which never quite escapes during the quiet times. That sounds utterly insane doesn't it? I feel the same way about theatres.
I think what is easy to deduce from all of this is the fact that I'm a night owl. We both are. We're rarely in bed before 1 and rarely up before 8.45am and get deeply irritated by people who assume that these hours make us lazy people!
I still can't say anything about the secret project. Somewhere, in an office in Kentish Town, is a wall covered from top to bottom in post-it notes, strange drawings and photographs. It looks like something from Crime Scene Investigation. That'll get your brains spinning!!
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