Time slips through my fingers, while piles of things keep growing. Piles of CDs to listen to, piles of books to read, piles of magazines and papers on the floor to sort out, piles of rubbish, piles of emails. Too much to do, too much to read, and I hate to throw anything away at all. I appear to have forgotten How To Live.

A strange thought: I am not getting any work done, because I am far too busy. Doing what? I’m not sure.

I keep saying Yes to far too much, and my appointments diary quickly fills. Oh, but this is London. Everyone’s got a gig or club or an art show or a birthday party to go to… Everyone is talking… and… no one is listening! No, that’s unfair.

But I don’t feel so worried about it any more. It did seem until recently that I woke up, spent my entire waking hours apologising to people by text or email that I can’t make their gig or party, then so to bed. A full time job! No more. One mustn’t worry about losing friendships. People know where to find me if they really need to. Come to the Bistrotheque cabaret every Friday night, or come to the Boogaloo in Highgate.

A Tiresome Frequently Asked Question: “We haven’t seen you for ages, where have you been?”.

Answer: Trying to Live! Trying to Create!

Recording sessions with Tom E going well. Have also been offered recording time with Tommy B and Aug S. Very pleased about that. I turn up with guitar, lyrics, notebook and ideas, and we make recordings together. The DIY solo recording thing is not for me: I always need a producer.

Enjoying my weekly residency at the Hanky Panky cabaret at Bistrotheque, but still get terribly nervous about performing solo. Still, the more I do it, I can only improve. Have been singing using the brand new Tom E demos as backing. Hot off the press music, indeed. The debate panel is fun, and last Friday I was roped into improvised acting as part of a bizarre sketch. I was a toyshop owner presenting three Courtney Love dolls (all male: David R-P, Ryan S and an appallingly drunk Citrone, all in Ms Cobain drag). Xavior as a townie dad and Lucinda as daughter wanting a present. To impress her, the Courtney dolls then lipsync, then perform “Doll Parts” live, then play musical statues. Ye gods, what Nu-Romo chaos. It’s the sort of thing that could only happen in Camden circa 1995… which is now Old Street / Hackney 2005.

Toying with the idea of going up to Edinburgh for a few days at the festival. Accommodation might be a problem on a zero budget, though.

The cabaret aside, I’m taking any excuse to get out of town right now. Too hot, too hot-headed. I hear a man was stabbed to death on the Holloway Road-travelling 43 bus (which I use frequently) last Friday night, purely for asking a hooded youth to stop throwing chips at him. The feeling is if the Night Lads and the bombers don’t get you…. Well, they shoot electricians, don’t they.