The hallucinations are back...

Someone just abseiled past my window.

This is not a normal office.
1.10.03 11:57


Pinch punch

First of the month.
1.10.03 11:58


Acting is bad for my health

I seem to have fallen into a bit of a routine:

Finish work. Dash over to rehearsals. Forget to warm up. Launch into hugely energetic dance routine. Pull muscle. Go to pub for a "quick drink" with the chorus. Start bitching about director/choreographer/other actors. Drink four pints of beer. Smoke all of Lou's cigarettes. Stagger out of pub. Buy chips. Eat chips. Crash at flat of fellow chorus member. Wake up with hangover. Borrow knickers/socks/clothes/makeup. Go to work. Finish work. Dash over to rehearsals....And so ad infinitum.

I haven't been home in two days. I fear my flatmate may have rented out my room. And I seem to be surviving on chips, beer and cigarettes. By the time the rehearsal process is over I'm going to be suffering from scurvy. I'll be onstage with bleeding gums, covered in suppurating sores. Oh, the glamour.
1.10.03 12:09


Pickle anyone?

I haven't been to a supermarket for about a month. I've been living off cereal. My cupboards are bare. But I think the day I get this desperate is the day I pack up my things and move home to mother.
3.10.03 11:16


"I'll just pop along for one drink"

Yes, I actually said that with a degree of conviction when the Dude & Monkey said they were in the Angelic.

Do - I - never - learn?! There is no such thing as "one drink".

Anyway, after many, many beers in the pub some bright spark suggests going along to the Elbow Room to play pool and (hey!) drink some more beer. This was the point that I should have gone home to my nice flat with my nice bed and my nice Nurofen. But as I currently seem to have all the willpower of a Haitian zombie, I found myself playing pool.

I'm really crap at pool. Awful. Worse than awful. But last night I felt I plumbed new depths of awfulness. After missing one incredibly easy shot I was so humiliated I crawled under the pool table. I was partnering Jarvis, who wasn't happy with my pool-playing performance either. So when I missed another shot he kicked me on the shin. It was just like being back at school.

I crashed at Monkey's flat. This is the third night this week that I haven't made it home. I despair of myself. I woke up feeling like Bob out of "Teachers". Groo. The Dude drove me to work - may angels and pixies bless and caress him for ever more. He truly is a god to me. The journey in was surreal, with us either going along in agonized, hungover silence or giggling like fools at the Dude's appalling puns. The nun one was inspired (I'll leave it to him to explain it).

God help me, I've got to rehearse tonight. Anybody got a spare head I could borrow?
3.10.03 12:24


Owwwwwwwwww

Every single muscle in my body aches. Bloody bastard director making me dance for six hours yesterday.

I think I've even sprained my soul.
3.10.03 16:52


I think I may be a bit emotional this morning

Johnny Cash's "Hurt" just came on The Amp, and now I'm crying. Not such a good thing when you're on reception.

Corporate Big Shot: Hello, I'm here to see Mr Wellman.

Me: *sob* Certainly. Please *sniffle* take a seat... oh god. *wail*

Damn. Now they're playing "Fugitive Motel". Here come the waterworks...

Edit: They keep playing Johnny Cash! This is the sixth time that song has been on. Is the Amp deliberately trying to make me weep? Play some Supergrass, for God's sake, before I top myself.
6.10.03 11:01


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