I can't work out which way is inside out. It's not a walking through doors phenomenon but more like a clicking in and out of society. The other day I was walking home from having coffee with Spencer. I was hungry and sorely tempted to indulge in a little phantom food as I cruised by my favourite Turkish restaurant. Phantom food is, for the uninitiated, food left on plates by wasteful diners. There was half a pide and a whole bowl of dip sitting on the outside corner table. I thought it would be so easy, just so easy to stoop a little and score myself a free and delicious dinner without breaking stride but I didn't do it because it would have been one of those inside out moments where I cross and uncross lines by stealing bin-bound food then taking it home to heat it in the microwave and eat it off a nice clean plate.
I had a strange job interview on Monday. I chatted with the lovely woman for half an hour then was given a red plastic crate full of things and an hour and a half to write convincing and creative copy about each item in the box. I hopped off the bus somewhere in the middle of the city on my way home, bought a coffee and sat a while watching people hurry past until the hurry got into my bones and I started walking down the street as fast as I could for no reason at all. A man in a suit smiled at me and I was shocked. Men in suits ordinarily look right through me, it took me a moment to remember that I was dressed like an office person with a suit jacket buttoned neatly over my ironed dress.
Gigs, parties and the business of the creative effort - it's a time thing.