A Day In The Life

I read the news today, oh boy
Four thousand holes in Blackburn Lancashire

7.00am - Alarm goes off.

7.00am - Snooze button is hit.

7.09am - Alarm goes off again.

7.09am - Snooze button is hit again.

7.18am - Alarm goes off a third time.

7.18am - Snooze button is hit a third time.

7.27am - Alarm goes off a fourth time.

7.28am - Stumble into bathroom, turn on bathroom radio so can hear 7.30am news while having shower.

Let's skip a bit.

8.30am - Leave house and walk to work B (you'll see my reasoning shortly).

9.00am - Arrive work B.

Work, work, boring, boring, same old, same old, only highlight this past week being the presence of the next installment of Australian Idol contestants*.

5.30pm - Leave work B and jump on bus into city.

6.00pm- Arrive work A.

6.35pm - Have a meeting with fellow work A-er's.

7.00pm - Prepare for evening's performance (I'm not in the play, I'm just working the bar).

8.00pm - Performance commences.

10.00pm - Performance ends, commence pack up.

11.00pm - Finish packing up, head to train station, wait for train.

11.30pm - Board train for home.

11.45pm - Arrive home, make a cuppa and head upstairs.

11.55pm - Remove makeup**, brush teeth, remove contact lenses***

12.00am - Get undressed, crawl into bed, read one chapter of current book****

12.15am - Set alarm, turn off light and go to sleep.


And that's how it is. At least for another two weeks. Sorry Ems... I promise I'll get back to posting properly after that.

I have a cracker post about how I saw the cavalcade that was Nickers on her way to marry Kurban, just itching to be written. Cheeky cow had the nerve to wave at me as I was walking along New South Head Road last Sunday.*****

There's also a post in my head about the fun that was Australian Idol filming at my workplace.

But they have to stay in my head for the time being. I've been charged with the task of finding an Australian play for work A to produce at the end of the year. Christ there's some rubbish out there. I've never read so many dud scripts in my life.

Anything decent which has an older male character (50's), two other male characters (20s-30s) and a female character (20s-30s) which is not gobshite or talking heads and preferably gets the actors to act rather than just talk, should be sent my way asap, if not sooner.

And though the holes were very small
They had to count them all
Now they know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall

Be back soon.

xoxo

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* Yes, the callbacks of Australian Idol were held at my workplace last week. Tuesday morning started with 130 of the little songbirds and by lunchtime it was down to 100. By Tuesday evening there were 70. Wednesday afternoon saw that cut cruelly down to 40 and on Thursday evening they were sent back to the hotel in the knowledge that by Friday morning there would be just 25 of them who would be thrust into the spotlight and the judging of the public. It was great. I shall be sharing lots of gossip when the show hits the airwaves and I will be looking forward to see who makes the top ten. As long as its not a blonde bitch named Melanie... they were all a nice bunch apart from her.

** If I'm wearing any. Some days its just far too difficult to even curl my eyelashes, let alone slap on a bit of blush.

*** I'm being very good about removing my contact lenses of late. I used to just leave them in when I was too tired, but a stern lecture from my optometrist a few months ago on how I was a prime candidate for eye disease and potential blindness has frightened me into taking more care, no matter how exhausted I am.

**** Ranikins gave me a book on Katharine Hepburn for my birthday called Kate: Remembered, by A. Scott Berg. If you like biographies to be more than biographies, then this is a cracker. I'm loving it. The chapter on dinner with Michael Jackson in particular is hilarious.

***** I was innocently walking up New South Head Road last Sunday after having coffee in Rushcutters Bay park with some friends when the police escorted procession of Rolls Royces drove past. Naturally, I turned to look (police sirens always make me jumpy) and young Lucia Hawley, obviously excited by all the pomp and ceremony, waved enthusiastically to me. Being the nice, friendly person I am, I waved back to her. My hand was still up when Nickers' car went past and she must have thought I was waving to her, which of course I wasn't. I rather suspect its karma for my recent "sharing-a-birthday" rant.