The End Has No End.


Not true.

The tour finished yesterday when Albert played on Late Night With Conan O' Brien. Ironically for a show that airs at 12:30AM we loaded in at 7AM. JOy of the deepest kind. Brian and I (who'd both had about 1 hour's sleep the night before after getting back from DC) both loaded in and then fell asleep on the sofas in the dressing room for a couple of hours. Like two crispy, grizzled bears.



After the show all the gear went back to various rehearsal studios / houses and we all met up to watch Conan air at 12:30AM. It was a fitting way to finish the tour.

Then I slept like a drugged pig. Mmmmmmm.

Today I'm finalising the tour accounts, which is easy enough even if it's boring. But trying to deal with this:




Isn't so easy when this





is on TV.

I've really got into Walker, Texas Ranger. Or rather, compared to processing piles of receipts, I've really got into Walker, Texas Ranger. It's the very best of crappy TV. TV you can watch without watching. And there are seemingly hundreds of episodes on TV all the time.


Back home and my apartment is clean, which is a small blessing. And I can eat properly again, rather than feeding on crap like this:



This is a Philly cheese steak. I ate two on Tuesday. Wrongness in a sandwich. They taste as good as they look bad.

Thursday, when we were in DC, would have been my 10th Wedding Anniversary, had we not divorced. Today the tour finishes. It's a strangely timed week. The phone isn't ringing with minutae anymore, and the email questions and arrangements have stopped, and personally I have nothing at all planned for the rest of my life and no one to plan it with. I feel kind of light. It's a strange feeling. Not a bad one, but strange. It's quite exciting to feel that the future is so open. And not a little scary.

It will pass. Everything does. That's what's great about being alive.