Feeling a pretty urgent to need to get to work on an extended bit of humorous writing, think I've come to terms with being incapable of light comedy in the manner of Wodehouse or Jerome K. Jerome, melancholic & harsh it will need to be, I think.

Anyway, went for a short walk, going to go for a longer one with the dog, then maybe another longer one by myself. It's a magic day, a day for dreaming, dreaming of things to come- maybe the rotting corpses in my brain will give off enough gas to launch a pretty balloon or three.