By evening it was winter; The Winter's Tale, review tickets. The company doesn't like Daily Information and I get a snarl when I ask for a programme. Decide to give them a good review out of of spite (and despite several annoying performances). Me, I'm thrilled just to see it performed. It's Shakespear's special effects blockbuster, with actors aged 16 years halfway through, direct intervention by a god, a statue coming to life, and of course, "exit, pusued by a bear". Not that the company bothers with all this but ho hum. I'll not thwack them hence with distaffs.
After my year in a day, a crowd of returns and repeats and filling-in of missing parts; found it in me to complete my weekly strip, finally got back my first film from my Holga (thank you Dan!) and it's great (good picture of you, Ian!), NTL actually send us a correct bill, and, best of all, The Man from U.N.C.L.E is back, back, back! ... coming to Bravo next week. Who says wishes don't come true?
Now, just got that wittering, muttering, weird-smelling idiot who's singing along to her walkman to get rid of. Please? I really do need her to go now.