Date: 1st November 2014
Destination: Ghent (Belgium)
Subject: Daniel Sloss
This is the first morning of the experiment that we haven't been required to vacate the hotel and catch scheduled transportation to another destination. This is refreshingly pleasant for me because not only did I get some much needed rest to nurture the consequences of last night's Pinot Noir but it chiefly provided me with an opportunity to distance myself from my test subject for long enough to remember who I am.
The trouble with the morning upheavals is that we encounter multiple transactions with personnel from various outposts of the service industry, who if less than adequate at their profession, sculpt Daniel's temperament into that of a cantankerous old man with children on his lawn. You'd think life had to throw you war time depression, the loss of your betrothed and a life time of shattered dreams, then finally having your bones claimed by arthritis, notifying you that your best years are over and you haven't won but you must keep playing until those same bones are claimed by the dirt, before you could be ground down to a state of such vehement bitterness. Wrong. Daniel, at the ripe age of twenty-four finds himself of this emotional constitution if you take fifteen minutes getting his latte order wrong while he's in a hurry at 8am.
I was eating a platter of cold meats and cheese in the breakfast bar when Daniel spotted me, took a seat and ordered a drink which arrived promptly, I saw the ghost of what looked like a smile on his face before he said "last night was fun." Today is a good day.
We've spent the afternoon scratching our heads. Although we were handed the opportunity to explore the beautiful city of Antwerp we rather maturely decided to invest the time granted to us by our prolonged residency in working together on a humorous manuscript. The time was wasted. We attempted to water some ideas in the hope that they'd bloom, but unfortunately the soil lacked some essential nutrients today so the ideas undeniably wilted. It would have been a fruitful harvest had we been willing to compromise our personal integrity, however, arranging words in such a mystifying way that they appear to have the structure of jokes but are inconsequentially void of any impact or reward is something that has already been done by Chuck Lorre and we didn't want to steal his formula.
I have not let this erode my spirit as we are being chauffeured to a gig in the neighbouring town of Gent very shortly, which I am happy to anticipate. We have an exciting day on the horizon tomorrow as we will descend upon the liberal haven of Amsterdam where we will indeed be joined by some of my fellow professors who will accompany me in the clinical trials of my subject. I predict they will provoke some behavioural anomalies for me to report, of which I am very much looking forward to. Being mindful of our impending debauchery we have concurred that it would be best practice to simply enjoy the sights of the castle tonight then bed down early, free from intoxication.
That didn't go to plan, it turns out when all of the key components of an exquisite evening are of the highest standard; great venue, expensive gin, nice weather, outstanding company... It really tests your resolve when it comes to bringing the day to a premature conclusion. In short, we wanted it to go on forever. Belgium, I salute you.