Sunday, February 04, 2007
City rats at full moon
Friday night the usual mix - beer, vodka, wine, vodka, anything to achieve a pleasant state of oblivion. The city gears up for full moon fever. In Glasgow people lurch from one weekend to another, making as much noise as possible inbetween. Finally at two we fall into bed - and then there's a bang. Outside - a car wrapped round a bollard, actually bent in half. Windscreen smashed to hell. I call the ambulance, but being half drunk and confused end up shouting at the guy in the call centre until boyf has to take over.*
I'm quick in a crisis, but not polite.
Sirens, shouting, flashing lights.
I'm tired of living in the city. The street outside is the man drag for local boyracers, with their nuclear-powered stereos and novelty car horns. Motorways bisect everything here - they're building more. I'm drowning in cars.
I miss the sea, birdsong and open spaces. Soon, very soon, we're making for the wilderness.
But on the good side, I had a kind of spontaneous overview of work this weekend, and realised some long-dithered over plans. I've started a new story that's so close to the bone I'm unsure about writing it - but then, they say if you're scared by your writing you're doing well, right? I've come up with strategies and ideas and forecasts which really excite me. I've enlisted a partner in crime. The daffodils are up, and crocuses too.
Spring is in the air. Ad aspera per astra. Bring it on.
(*Nobody was seriously injured in the smash up. And the local Youth refrained, miraculously, from setting the car on fire. So the picture is a little overdramatic, but you know, poetic license, etc.)