This morning I slept in, then postponed my constitutional to go to the Cartoon Museum to drop off the strips I picked out at random for the Inking Woman exhibit, after months of mix-ups and procrastination. Thy're pretty shit, but I think one will go into the show. Met the curator, Anita O'Brien, who was very nice to a silly old woman. I was feeling quite low. Getting around town is just desperately draining, nowadays. Soho is fucked for good, it seems. This Crossrail thing is just going on forever, and everything's such a mess. I got an 88 bus to go home, as they're running a bit better than some of the others. I did some shopping on Clapham High street and walked on home, but it was hard. The ol' arthur-itis is terrible at present. Tidied up when I got in, and showered, but then completely flaked out.
Watched WOMAN IN BLACK 2: ANGEL OF DEATH, which had a few mild 'jumps'. but was really slow and boring. That marshland environment is ever so spooky, though. I never did get my exercing done. My bad.
I keep looking in the shops for that V I Poo stuff that's being advertised, to see if it's actually real. Haven't seen it so far.