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

Worryingly, I actually enjoyed the festive extravaganza last night. I was in the minority. Despite the theatre being packed with what I assumed was the target audience (ie, old duffers and my mum) they just couldn't be arsed to show their appreciation or even applaud every now and then. Poor cast. Two people sat to my left reeked potently of alcohol. They lasted 15 minutes and then ran out of the theatre, no doubt to get some more drink down their necks. Saw an old workmate I've not bumped into for well over a decade. In the interim, he's won £1m on the Lottery. I kid you not. He was a decent bloke who deserves to not have to worry about cash, so well done him. Can't help thinking that, now I personally know a Lottery winner, I've got no chance of winning myself. I've also neglected to buy a ticket for six months, which won't help either. In my last 24 hours of thirtydom, £1m would come in handy and also keep the credit card companies I deal with on a regular basis happy. Card from current colleagues, who will no doubt win the Lottery when I leave this place, sings a rendition of Stevie Wonder's Happy Birthday in my general direction. What more does a man need? A town crier called me up yesterday. Not by shouting at me, by using the telephone. Was I going to Edinburgh and what was I doing and would I like to combine efforts? I was so intrigued I'm meeting up with him next week.

Humming: John Lennon - Mother; Gimme Some Truth; God; Watching The Wheels.