I’m Not Free!

March is continuing to fill my life with things to do. Just this weekend I did a spot on the radio, travelled up to Penrith to see a show, spent a day painting sets, together with rehearsal and orchestra sitzprobe (thats the band meets cast rehearsal). I was well and truly buggered when I hit the sack at a surprisingly early 10pm last night and didn’t wake up until 8am-ish when I felt rain coming in my window and landing on me.

It’s another week of spending every night at the theatre. Tonight I was there for a committee meeting, my first since being inducted onto the theatre group’s committee in what I must admit was a spur of the moment decision at the annual general meeting last week. I’m now glad to have my position and to have a say in the future of the group.

Tonight’s meeting was notoriously long, but started well when one of the committee members, with hair not unlike Ms Slocombe’s entered the room fifteen minutes late and declared, “Sorry I’m late! My pussy just threw up on the floor at home!” Cue bowed heads and jiggling shoulders. I almost came back with a Mr. Humphries-esque line “… which was only slightly prettier than it throwing down!”*, but I could see the situation needed no more stoking.

The rest of the week can only get worse.

PS: RIP, John Inman.

*Alternatively, “”I would have thought that wouldn’t happen at her age.”