"I put my bra on for you..."

Strange, tired days.  Through the hated month of February and into dreary March, which holds at least the promise of the 17th in eleven short days.  Suffering through the habitual stress pre-trip, combined with the uncertainty over a Visa, and current clients, and otherwise.  Waiting for some things to wrap up and others to progress...  Waiting for April and the start of another notable pilgrimage...  And waiting for summer, essentially, and some inspiration for the next fresh new idea.  

A nostalgic time of year, perhaps, spurred on by a Saturday night dinner party with young children asleep upstairs, by (another) random trip to the darkness of the worst of clubs in search of... something, by Monday night Fireside egglant and Tommy's Uncles and remembrances of stories past with CM - from Waldron to Barrington, how funny the story of Pavarotti, and the service elevator and the broken nose...  ah, what you remember, what is memorable.  And stories of travel and the harsh finality and suddenness of death, washed down by 9.5% Belgian trappist beer, followed by a boat ride across the cold Harbour and familiar demons.

I don't know.  Off to talk about RFP and PPAs and the like up at the old school, and then a White Wine Wednesday that feels more like just another task than anything.  Still awaiting possibilities for manana evening back at the old Palace, whether you'll hear word from either LC or AM/J tonight...  and presto, that fateful sound means it looks like chinn.  And so the make-shift pub crawl on Friday?  No, because presto again with another text on that front!  Ah randomness.  Maybe a trip home early instead?  Most likely.  Home for a rest?

UPDATE: Turns out not to be bad... could have stayed on for more white wine and cheese surely, but escape plans are for the best.  Ah, the lies, of ferries and such.  As the dream of India awaits.  All about making the effort.  I'll try and remember you there, Ms. ZS Odei.  And others sadly lost.  It is, truly, later than we think.  And so.

FURTHER UPDATE: What is with this upper back/spinal pain?  Where did it come from last night?  Truly bizarre.  Oh well.  In other news related to the above, LC managed to make "arrangements" so I look forward to the Ghetto and stories of a very random journey...  and the on-again/off-again two-person pub crawl is still up in the air and may yet be done tomorrow.  With donair and hot-tub in the middle of it, that's the question.  Hehe.  4 in 4, and then to Moncton?  Sounds right.  As it says at the top: strange, tired days.