I am not musical. I am not artistic, in the sense that any pictorial depiction is in essence a stick with a circle for a head (insert Manic Mailman quote for cultural reference purposes. Heh. Ghost Mutt). I used to be able to write, or at least I used to think I could, but for a matter of months (years), anything I am able to scrawl on paper is worthless. I’m pretty sure it has always been worthless. I watched 2001: A Space Odyssey last night, for the first time. Half of it. I had finished watching Jackass Presents: Bad Grandpa (for the first time, which I had laughed at) and had clicked through the channels to find 2001: A Space Odyssey on BBC2. I love Kubrick but had never seen this. I don’t know what this says about me. I have come into town and am sat writing this. In a cafe. Expectation was: wake up at an appropriate time, vacate the house in a manner denoting enthusiasm, read (scheduled) book on the attractive shores of Derby’s riverside, have lunch without lungs imploding, buy 2001: A Space Odyssey so I can watch the first half which I imagine is just as important as the second half, then get a haircut at 1400. Reality is: woke up and was not convinced that waking up was purposeful, felt sick about leaving the house, watched The Musketeers and felt better, left the house too late to enjoy the grim crust floating along the Derwent, couldn’t find 2001: A Space Odyssey, instead purchased a coffee and sat with my notepad in a cafe in an ironic cycle of self-loathing no-one should want to hear. There is no internet access here so I can’t type into my phone, as though my eyeballs would allow me. The pen I am using is from a casino in Leicester which I left early on a work’s night out because I had no idea what to do with myself – my face, my hands – in the midst of friendly, intelligent people. My boyfriend would metaphorically gut me for subscribing to cafe culture. He is in Prague with his friends this weekend, which explains my increase in television consumption, because I have no idea what to do with myself in the midsts of nobody. I need to scratch things off a list I haven’t written yet. I am planning to take up knitting. I’ve been really sick this past week and people are leaving the cafe, but I’m sure it’s not related. I looked in three different DVD shops for 2001: A Space Odyssey, but I couldn’t find it. I didn’t know whether it would be listed under #, A, S, or T, so I looked in every category. It wasn’t in any of them. It may surprise you that DVD shops aren’t very good at alphabetisation. This is a personal strength. I am not very eager in divulging personal strengths. I would have also bought The Shining and Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory with Gene Wilder as Willy Wonka, if I had found 2001: A Space Odyssey. But I didn’t. ‘I’m on a Kubrick bender,’ I’d say to the person at the till with a wicked smile. ‘Willy Wonka isn’t Kubrick,’ they’d respond with genuine indifference. ‘No,’ I’d reply in a friendly and intelligent way, having learned all my wit knee-deep in free Coca Cola from casinos, ‘but it sure is fucking creepy’. I’ve recently cleared out my DVD collection, so there is some space. I had intended to buy more today. I don’t know what this says about me and everyone else. I couldn’t find 2001: A Space Odyssey, which I have already mentioned. I’ll buy it on the internet later. I’ll post this on the internet later too, with a picture of my new haircut. I think most people in this world are unhappy. If someone knocks at the door I can’t open it. I will be switching off soon, entirely. There are 10 minutes until I go for my haircut now, so I need to find a witty conclusion to my vacuous cafe writing.