Writing but not sleeping

I came up with some lyrics last night, written more-or-less to the tune of Massive Attack's Teardrop. I'm working on the music, under the working title 'Illusion', trying to keep the Massive Attack feel of minimal instrumentation taking up a lot of space.

I've not been feeling good lately, and spent most of the day with stomach cramps for no apparant reason. H says I breathe like a smoker.

Certainly I'm in remarkably poor voice at the moment, subject to odd pains, and tierd most of the time.

It took more than an hour to disembowel Simon M's computer - while unscrewing and disconnecting endless bolts and cables, we chuntered away about who is currently tolerating who in the party, and comparing the relative merits of Angela Lansbury and Dame Edna Everage as the new pope.

(Seriously, I suspect the next one will be a bland compromise. He thinks it'll be a right wing shit. We'll know soon enough.)

But I now have a bag full of hard disks and memory chips, soon to find a new home in a Dell box. There's another bag of bits from Paul T's computer somewhere.

Tomorrow night is the 'Italian Evening', which means a plate of pasta in a resteraunt, followed by a subtitled film. It's my job to transfer the VHS of the movie to DVD, and set up the projector, and generally make sure the 'film' side of the evening works.

Sometimes it's nice to have your expertise valued. This is not one of those times.

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EDIT: The film is Rome, Open City. And the picture quality of the VHS is just abysmal. I'll do what I can to clean it up, and try to arrange a last minute replacement if I can't.

The new songfight titles are up. 'Nothing Less Than Everything' fits quite well with what I have for 'Illusion', so I'll rewrite it in that direction.

There was some kind of cockup with my application for teacher training some months ago. I've requested a new application form. It's late for a submission, but there are still plenty of vacancies - some even in fairly nearby universities.

Four O'Clock exactly. I keep wanting to hear H's voice on the telephone, but there's nothing to call him about. I hope Nick is okay, he's been quite quiet lately. My body is failing and my mind is clouded. There's far too much to do, no time to do it, and sometimes it's difficult to care.