Egg bound

Heading into the BH weekend, then. Have clattered out an Arctic Monkeys interview, based on the excitement that isn't an electronic press kit and done enough to make sure that, when I sit at my desk post the Resurrection/chocolate consumption shuffle, it won't be the Tuesday from Hell. Realising now that, as the script is all but finished, I have no sense of purpose, other than my plans to put the garden incinerator to good use on Saturday. I am not reading anything. Not listening to anything. Not viewing anything. Rehearsals start a week on Monday and my presence will be required at some of the early sessions. I need to sleep. This despite sleeping relatively well over the last two nights.