Yet another pair of shoes has met a hideous doom (dropped in the river, left to float, like Paddle to the Sea, to a new life somewhere far, far from me). Is it so very difficult to assume that my feet are normal? All I want is shoes which won't hurt, look nice and can stand up to the huge amount of walking I do. Come autumn, I can start wearing my boots for outdoors, but even I draw the line at miniskirts and hiking boots - in a work environment. The latest kamikaze victims are blue suede-ish, which will go with the many blue suits I have - I counted up my suits and I have one for every day of the week and three for Sundays. Obviously, it's time for the wardrobe to be culled. The trouble is, I just don't have room for everything - and I like buying clothes.
Felt like dancing triumphantly: was given two very difficult projects with deadline of today. Last night, my boss asked casually how they were getting on. Equally casually, I picked up project #1 (beautifully presented, colour coded, cross referenced, information factually correct, suggestions for improving the process marked by feasibility) and handed it to him. Project #2 was awaiting feedback, so showed him the draft. That was complete by lunchtime today. So went off to celebrate (aka cafe latte and waffles).
Watched Austin Powers #1 while tidying up the videos. What's going to emerge next? Well, apart from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, which I really did enjoy, more, probably than Tank Girl. The Buffy videos are being marked with a gold star, the series of "This Life" with a silver star and after I've catalogued the videos, never again!!!! It's an awful job. On the other hand, it is nice to see that tapes like "Review of the Year 1998" turn out to be something quite different ...though I did feel a bit stunned to see what other people had thought worthy of being taped. The only thought which came to me was: Why? Followed by: Tape over that asap and don't admit to it ever existing.
Endless trouble logging on - I thought at first the password had been changed. Things are much better now, apart from anything else most of the festivals have finished, so it's actually possible to take a bus which goes where it's supposed to, instead of going on huge detours to avoid carnivals or road works or too many tourists. Went out for one last frenzied dive through the tourists and had tapas and far too much rioja and cava. Now, it's back to normal for a few days before the church halls switch from being festival venues to places to ceilidh (yes, the ceilidh season is about to start, and I have no comfortable shoes). I threw away my comfortable but scruffy shoes and have been wearing shoes of varying degrees of pain ever since. The obvious solution: buying a new pair, is tricky, due to distance from shops, short lunchbreaks, needs to catch up on flexitime and such like.
Cockroach classic: Riddle on the Sands.
Music: the usual, Killing Miranda, Papa Roach, though Miles is thrilled to bits at having touched Marilyn Manson's hand and Ginger Fish's and having a bandage with Simon Pegg's autograph on, courtesy of the Glasgow Gig on the Green at the weekend. Falling down in the mosh pit and getting mildly trampled is a small price to pay, it seems.