Alphabetti Spaghetti isn’t called Alphabetti Spaghetti any more. It’s Spaghetti Letters now. I know, because I bought two cans of the stuff in Tesco this evening after weeks of searching for the stuff. It’s not as good as it used to be either. There is far too much alphabet and far too little tomato sauce.

It’s a mundane subject to put in a journal, perhaps, but it is another sign of the worrying correlation between ‘28′ and ‘middle age’, along with the cramps in my feet, Sunday afternoon’s trip to the (too interesting for my own good) antiques centre and the fact that every time I walk past the Astoria touts try and sell me tickets for bands I’ve never heard of.

…and the fact I seem to have taken to using the word ‘bands’ rather than ‘groups’.

I have a rug under my settee, slippers under my bed and a fleece under my desk at work that has a zip on the front. It almost qualifies for the title ‘cardigan’.

Hmmm…

Today could so easily have gone the same way as yesterday. I caught almost the same train. The 0732. It arrived early, though, which was a good sign, and it waited until its scheduled time before leaving, then flew past every station to Stratford, just as it should. To be honest, I was quite shocked, and it meant I was early for my first meeting of the day.

I killed time by taking the Circle Line north and then walking slowly down Tottenham Court Road in the sunshine. The weather so far this week has been fantastic and it makes me feel really good. This weekend we put the clocks ahead for summer time (’spring ahead, fall back’) and I’ll be able to cut through Soho Square on the way home every night. The first night my route home changes is a sign of the new season. Its gates are locked at dusk, so on the first day after summer when they are shut before I arrive it is clear winter is almost upon us.

In light of this, I have dug seven of the 50 folders of research I have filed under the settee. I am determined to get the book written by the time the gates are once again locked on my way home from work. I’ve been thinking about it for five years and to be honest, in all that time the whole project that has just got so big that I really don’t know where to start or what to do. I’ve got to do something, though, or another year will go by and nothing more will be written. So, here it is. A new start. A fresh look at some old work that is three years overdue.

The gym was as unpleasantly crowded as ever this evening. Two circuits of the car park to find a space. Every rowing machine, treadmill, bike and ab-thingie in use.

Perhaps gyming in the morning rather than at night is another resolution the longer days ought to inspire.

1. Robbie Williams
   I had yesterday all planned out with military precision. Then it all collapsed. I would go to the gym early, get a head start on...
   
   
2. Start of a brand new month
   The first day after we close an issue always feels light. Yesterday we sent the last page off to be printed, and went for a...
   
   
3. End of the week… start of a week
   Well there we go. That was my last day in the office for a week. And after a week and a bit of fantastic weather,...