I've already been warned in advance of tonight that Ladies Day will not change the world. I never expected that a play about a quartet of fish wives heading to Royal Ascot in York would, although wouldn't it be marvellous if there was some monologue, delivered in a Hull accent just before the interval, that made poverty history, released political prisoners the world over and brought peace to the planet? There'll be much dancing up and down Spring Street if that happens. Still, as long as there's a few samosas and party sausages at the after-show buffet that'll be enough for me. It looks like there might be a bit more reviewing. Just after posting yesterday Katie emailed me and asked me if I'd like to go to a show that takes place in the first week of rehearsals for my play, with matinee performances at 1pm. I'm currently negotiating with the venue to get in to the one and only evening performance next Friday, otherwise I won't be able to go and see whether a new adaptation by Mike Kenny of The Little Mermaid has the power to make a difference to life, the universe and everything.
There are a few people here who have photographs of their loved ones on their desks. I wonder why they feel the need? It's all a bit sickly, I think. I guess they're there as a reminder as to why they come to the office every day. But what would happen if the photographs went missing? Would they suddenly forget the reason they put up with the daily grind and total inconvenience that is work and be unable to ever tear themselves away from their desks? I have two photographs nestling near my computer right now. One of Charlie from Coronation Street, the other of his near neighbour Leanne Battersby. Neither of them good role models. Nor the reason I come to work.
Listening: Anthony & The Johnsons - Cripple and the Starfish
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