I’m sitting in the junk room at home, listening to the soundtrack from the movie “Hackers” (Voodoo People, by the Prodigy right now), typing this into GEdit in Solus Linux on the old PC. I need to get more 90s dance music – I used to have a few compilation albums from the big clubs such as “Miss Moneypennys”, and “Ministry of Sound” back in the day, but have a feeling they went to the charity shop during a clear-out at some point.
I have nothing to write about again. I’m not going to let that stop me.
Work is ticking over quietly, our house seems to not be falling apart at the moment, and the kids seem to be doing alright (quite a contrast from the pit of despair we found ourself climbing out of at the beginning of the week). Knowing my luck I’ll have a tooth fall out, or something equally ridiculous to blow a hole in the temporary calm that has descended on the household.
I’m returning to Germany next week – flying out on Monday, and back on Friday. Given that some kind of trade show appears to be happening in Frankfurt, I’ve ended up blowing the travel budget to pieces – paying three times what I might normally. We’ll make the money back later in the year, but for this visit I’ll pretend I’m somebody imporant, and try to enjoy it. My natural inclination is to avoid expensive hotels, and their restaurants and bars – but the opportunity to spend the week watching and recording life happening around me in may prove irresistable.
A pack of new white shirts sits across the room from me. I need to get them out and press them – I’ll need them if I’m going to try and “fit in”. I don’t suppose cargo pants and space invaders t-shirt are really going to cut it if I’m seen coming and going from one of the executive suites.
Whenever I stay at a bigger hotel, I end up thinking about “Lost in Translation” – the movie where Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson end up befriending each other while trapped in Tokyo. I wonder if that kind of thing ever happens – where random travellers forge unlikely friendships ? I’m guessing not, but the sentimental part of me hopes it might.