Have spent all day editing The Gifting and feel a lot happier now. Which means I have rewritten the grand total of 28 pages and I am now on Chapter Ten, page 203 of 450. Bloody good going, Carruthers, we cry! I know it may not seem much but, bearing in mind I'm adding in three extra voices and turning Simon's first person view point to a third person one, I'm pretty damn pleased. And at least it gets me out of the first stage of his journey and just about to cross over into the second. One stage down and three to go, eh. So, I feel exhausted but satisfied.
All this means that I have completely failed to even start on any of the other tasks I was planning to do: typing up the Goldenford minutes; and visiting poor Gladys in hospital (for which rampant neglect I am, yes I know it, in line for the Bitch of the Day award). However, I am sopping my guilt by factoring it in for tomorrow. Which is surely going to prove an all-in pastoral day, as I also need to pop into my other sick friend who's feeling rather down. I did have a brief phone call with her today while I was pondering on lunch and trying not to worry about Simon, and I think she's keen for a Friday visit. There's been something of a setback but, bloody hell, we'll get there. In the end.
And I must - sneakily - admit to a glorious sense of freedom in that, for the first time in a long time, I've done what I wanted to do rather than what is expected of me. Maybe the Inner Bitch calendar is bearing fruit already? Still have to catch up with the rest of it tomorrow though. Ah well. Oh to be a man, eh - typing minutes and visiting the sick are mainly done by women (hush my mouth!). Whatever happened to equality?
Tonight, Lord H and I are off to see The Vortex with the adorable Felicity Kendal. Honestly, you can't go wrong with a Felicity. Even if it's awful, she'll be perfect of course. She's like Marilyn Monroe in the sense that everyone's in love with her. One just can't help it.
Talking of theatres, I'm devastated to hear that the Yvonne Arnaud in Guildford is suffering hugely and facing the loss of its all-important grant next year. I couldn't live without the local theatres and I was greatly riled by the no-brain idjits that burbled on in the Surrey Advertiser last week about not really caring one way or the other as London is so close. Tossers! Travelling to London is Crap City and a Huge Effort - we need a theatre in Guildford and I personally feel like chaining myself to the stage door if they dare to threaten it. It - and the Woking Theatre - is one of the main reasons we chose to live here in the first place. Really (and I know everyone will start shouting at me for this, but it's true), I care far more about that than I ever did about the possibility of losing the Royal Surrey Hospital. And at a far deeper level. Ye gods, I may well die in an ambulance on the way to nowhere, but at least it will be a drama, darlings. The life blood of the soul, you know.
Today's nice things:
2. The theatre
3. Being selfish about priorities - hey, it's just for one day!...