In my rush to get on with more pressing matters last night (empty a bottle of wine in front of the footer) I forgot to mention what a large amount of shoulder rubbing and chin wagging I did yesterday. My upper body aches. I did more networking in an hour than a BT engineer gets to in a year (other telecommunication suppliers are available).
Upper and foremost was bright young thing Tracey Wall, a product of the Bath Spa Creative Writing MA. Currently she's freelancing in an ever diminishing sector - in a recession it's always the arts that get it in the neck first, eh - until her magna opus is published. Keep your eyes peeled back for that one.
While you're waiting though, you could do worse than to catch a whiff of the current crop on Wednesday night at the Rondo.
Right. Coffee - Check. iPod - Check. Cardigan - Check (other woolen products are available). Who doesn't love Sundays? I'll see you out there, page-botherers.
Sam 'The Uncommon' Reader
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