Monday, May 15, 2006

Workshops on the largest council estate in Europe preceded by a very messy sandwich in our favourite lunchtime diner. Avoided the theatre today as there's nothing for me to do really and, more importantly, I feel I'm highly contagious. Got a phone call as we walked around town in the rain asking me if I could do a radio interview tomorrow and another call when I was stood in the peace and quiet of a library from Ros Sullivan, Clive's widow, leading to a bit of a Dom Joly moment. I also found myself calling her "mate" when I first spoke, thinking it was someone else completely. Ros told me that ten of Sully's relatives are coming over from Wales for the last night of the play. Eek, this biographical drama is such scary territory.
Going to work at 6pm tends to throw the day out somewhat and by the time I was due to set off I was feeling anxious. I had, by then, also overdosed on cough linctus and Beecham's lemon drinks, and my usual prescribed medication, so, on top of a stinking cold, running nose and sore throat, that all added to the mess.
Woman in Nat West again telling me how much money they could save me if only I'd let them lend me some more money to increase my debt to them. I was cold, wet and hungry. "I know," I mumbled, thinking about the fact that on three occasions the bank has failed to keep telephone appointments that I have asked for to review my account and that the last time I told them not to ask me about loans ever again. "But we could save you money." "I know." It bores me that they even feel the need to go through the same routine every time anyone approaches the counter. It's the kind of thing that will, eventually, drive me to internet banking, even though I'd rather physically go into a bank and conduct my business. I was very close to a Michael Douglas Falling Down moment.

Listening: Howling Bells - Liberation


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