Saturday morning. The neighbor's son getting married today. I was only told this morning. Same age, 29. Funny, I never even noticed him before with a girl. But then again, when have I actually paid any attention to my neighbors? It's a shame, really. My entire life spent here and I don't even know anyone's last name, or first, down this lane. Shy or just completely anti-social? A wee bit of both. Coffee in the morning, maybe a movie borrowed from the Esplanade library. Decent selection, I can now appreciate, which probably only means I'm sufficiently removed in memory to the library at Goldsmiths, with its hoard of celluloid treasures. Taste of Cherry or The Magnificent Ambersons? Maybe both. I have time to burn today. No, I don't, not really. There's always work to be done. Follows then obviously, why do it today? Photography exhibition at four at the National Library. Hit a hundred pages on Ulysses. Big fuckin' deal. The book's 900 pages long.