>>>>>Killing Time<<<<<

I have just interviewed a campanologist. Only, he said, you don't call them campanologists. They're bell ringers and proud of it. Campanologist is just a word that's used on quiz programmes on the telly, said the campa...sorry, bell ringer. And he should know, cos he's tower captain, which is another way of saying head campanologist. He wasn't camp, either. Nor had he ever been carried up into the rafters on the end of the bell rope (you have to ask). And he wasn't deaf and he didn't have a lump on his back. Although he might have been lying about that cos it was a phone interview. Maybe he was deaf and had the questions signed to him by whoever the hell it was I was talking to (although there was no obvious delay in the responses to my questions. But, cripes, some people are really fast at signing). You never know, do you, who you're talking to? I bet he wasn't even a campanologist.

Good early feedback about first half of play, which was delivered by my fair hand to the venue yesterday. The chat there has filled me full of some much-needed confidence as I was suffering a rare moment of self-doubt. And, apparently, tickets have already started selling. This makes me feel anxious. In a good way, mind you. But this may account for my lack of sleep last night. At 3am I was wide awake and, for reasons probably attributed to a slight case of acohol-fanaticism, was salivating for a really ice-cold beer. It's a good job that the only liquid refreshment in the fridge at the moment is an eigth of a bottle of Coke with a hint a lime and a two pint of skimmed milk as this might be where the serious "life of a writer" problems start. With no booze to calm me, I opted to read an interview with the Kaiser Chiefs in last week's NME. Parvo indeed. Mildly amusing lads, though. At 4am I was enjoying the pleasures of the Creative Zen. Some 45 minutes later, with The Verve's Richard Aschcroft muttering sweet nuthins in my ears, I finally ripped out the ear plugs and returned to slumber. In the cold light of day, I realise that what I should have done is penned some play. Ah well, there's always tonight.

Another successful day at the office for Humberside Police. Reading: Haruki Murakami - Underground. Listening: Bright Eyes - Digital Ash in a Digital Urn.