I have a three-page list of things I need to achieve by the end of the week. All sorts of things need to be done for the concert; mostly so that people have enough time to rehearse the music I’ve written. I still have to find a pianist, but more worryingly, the choir is still an alto down. This evening I have to create a poster which I’m going to put up around various stage doors and drama schools to see if anyone comes forward. I’ve no idea why this search is proving so difficult - possibly because I'm looking for a chesty, belty, gospelly alto who reads music, and there probably aren't a great many of these around. Still, the best things come to those who wait. I did put a status update on Facebook asking if anyone was interested, and have subsequently been besieged by requests for friendship from people with all sorts of bizarre names. I entirely fail to understand why people can’t just send me a message, rather than seeing my post as an opportunity to add more friends to their lists. On closer inspection, however, I'm beginning to wonder if these people are even real. The names are so odd; Priscy Love, Edith Brazal, Nur Hani Murfiquah Hanafi, Young Ritchie. Is this spam?
Anyway, I’ve gone a bit low blood-sugar, so I’m sure this blog entry won’t be making a great deal of sense. Suffice to say, after the excitement of the weekend, I've done nothing today but sit at various tables, trying to tick off various points on my seemingly never-ending list.
Until yesterday I had a repulsive beard, which was itching like crazy and making me look like I had a bad case of mumps. I decided to shave it off this afternoon for something to do, but couldn’t find any shaving foam. I therefore pinched Nathan’s electric razor, but it was no match for my facial hair, and got itself all clogged up. I found a little button which flipped the head of the razor up, and allowed a cascade of stubble to pour into the bin. I gave it a few taps to get rid of the last dregs, but unfortunately this action sent the tiny little internal mechanisms of the razor flying into the dustbin, which was full of bits of rotting pineapple. I tried to fish them out again, but it's no good. The razor is completely broken, and Nathan’s going to be very angry with me.
I seem to have been a day out reporting Pepysian activity for almost as long as I can recall, so am going to give him a rest today, so that he can catch up... in a 350 year lag sort of way!