So I've been using the same dry clean of the years. It charges an absolute, raw,

bloody fortune. I found another dry clean now, because basically, I needed some buttons

stuck back on some trousers and a shirt and something else. What else has buttons on?

Teddy Bear's eyes. No, it wasn't Teddy Bear's eyes.

Then you get asked that very often. What was it? Oh, coat. Yeah, I had three. So over

the last seven years, I've made mental note when I've got enough things to that need buttons

put back on. I'll learn how to put buttons back on. You know, this sort of microtasks

that sit around in your home, you know, I need to sew this on that. I need to run that

through with the sword. I need to run through him with a sword. I need to scrape that.

I need to defunctalize this. I need to acid bath them. You know, there's little, there's

little mundane tasks, which increasingly form the main content and meaning of one's

life. You know, those ones until the meaning is lost. So one of them was, oh, yeah,

buttons. Oh, another one, for example, I've had recently is, I must think of somewhere

to put those batteries. So that's been, because I've been holding them for three years and

they're starting to oxidise my hand. It's a complex process. Don't fully understand

it. And now semi-transparent. And they also have an oily sheen. Although one of the

triple-aids has fully recharged amazing. It's supposed to be a disposable. Yeah. Yes,

it gets wet, but those batteries, that kind of thing. And these things almost, they almost

sort of operate, they're bubbling away, aren't they? At a certain level, occupying chunks

of brain time. It's almost permanently around the clock. Getting in the way of that great

novel. Getting in the way of that bloody great novel, which I tell you what, if I could

only have worked out where to put those batteries. You could have written battery hand.

...