The Bald Spreadeagle

Back from what's becoming a semi-regular evening in a Mosman pub. Semi-regular because the cocktail happy hour ($5 for a Long Island Iced Tea!!) has the very work-unfriendly time of 4.30-6.30pm & we can't always get there by then.

Anyway, home again, a couple of LIITs to the good.

A busy fortnight coming up - a proposed trip to Lismore next weekend, various dinners, dates & writing & recording sessions to fit into far too few days. Somewhere in there, I hope to squeeze in the odd job interview or two too...

Otherwise, work is blah & life is calm. So calm in fact, that yesterday a colleague asked me if I'd dyed my hair, because there seems to be less grey in it than previously (I don't see this guy often - obviously). No dye-job has been perpetrated, but the Temples of Grey Hair have apparently lost some disciples which have not been replaced. This could be a good thing.

Of course, it does still mean my hair's falling out...