Day 1024

Thing one. Staying awake 12–14 hours a day for months at a time (running, writing, rewriting, deadhanging, re-rewriting, running) may be just tons of fun and good for the legs besides (I see it in the eyes of the haggard, batty dude in the mirror), but it does not pay.

Thing two. I have learned that the draughty old 12-storey pillbox in which I and the cat presently sleep, eat, and laugh at each other’s bodily noises is being given, as part of a clever tax manoeuvre, to another tenent. And so, sooner than I’d thought, we now begin to work toward moving to, and eventually living in, another draughty place down the road.

Things three and four are important, but not really your concern.