Endless variations of trying to put the little one to sleep, only to ever find her at the brink of exhaustion yet completely willing to disregard said sensation. It’s such a ridicilously trivial thing, to sleep, and extraordinary to think of how she doesn’t know how. So far we’ve failed miserably at teaching her, but having said that, she’s a tough student, moody, strung so high it’s unbelievable. I have the feeling we have a three-minute window in which to put her down, it’s that kind of tricky. But, once again and many times beyond this I’m afraid, the days pass, one at a time. Eighty days old, thereabouts. ~~~ And the script came back from the Film Institute, and once more it’s a no, and once more they have pleasent things to say about my style, which is encouraging. Some of their points are valid, some are not, of course one is beat the day the news arrivse but am experienced enough to handle it. As long as it’s not a complete defeat, which it is not. Broke the news to Bettina at WaterFront, don’t know if it means a close on our business but am guessing ‘yes’, they haven’t gotten back to me yet. At any rate it’s a contact, isn’t it, perchance I’ll get the chance to reach out again and she has proven a kindness I’m more than willing to embrace, only in the hope I might repay her that very kindness. But that’s for a later script, isn’t it, and that’s really what needs to be said about that. ~~~ Work progresses steadily on the new story, incidentally. Have begun to plot the outline in details, but of course the working hours prove very few, these days. Nothing can I do about it, safe hope it works out to my advantage, somehow. Will differ my approach this time around, work the outline and get cracking on a synopsis and treatment simultaniously. ~~~ But all kinds of things lurk in the time ahead, quite content to rid me of my time, do they not. Friday went and checked out two homes in Soroe, first one crap, second one quite decent apart from the smell of the hair-salon in one room, penetrating the building entire. So will send some knowledgeble man to the address, pay him to speak his mind and more than likely sign my name one several dotted lines as a result hereof. Wheels in motion, etc. Borrow the money to install wooden floors, and buy a small car, etc. And wait until December before we might move in, and go to work every day, and live to grow old. So on and so forth. Is this how the folks felt it, their lives taking place before their eyes. It seems like a nice place, hitherto occupied by nice elderly people. All the sense and direction they felt, throughout their fifty years in that house, I hope some of it decides to stay there, hidden in walls and behind panels, for mine – our – benefit. At a time when I should sense some kind of loss of that sensation, direction. ~~~ There’s a lady down here on the ground floor, she bitches and moans whenever we move her doormat around, and that we must when we need to move the baby’s trolley past. So am here, in writing, confirming the mental note of remembering to pay her my respect, so to speak, when we move out. Will releave her of the annoying item in question, of course. Possible mail it to her in a jigsaw-form, haven’t decided about that just yet. Must say that I’ve never enjoyed my revenge hot; prefer mine icy cold, when I’m as far away – physically but especially mentally – as possible. ~~~ Tomorrow Sunday. Am hoping for a quiet day.