We're on the Jubilee line heading from Canary Wharf to Waterloo. It's been the longest day in the world and still it continues...
I was up with the lark preparing for the concert before rehearsing Em Brûlée at noon, who's come down from Leeds to sing the theme from A Symphony for Yorkshire.
Tim, John and I then trundled into town, and I had my hair cut at Mr Toppers, which means I now have annoying little half hairs prickling on my neck. I'm not really keen on the whole thing of sitting in a hairdresser's chair staring at myself in a giant mirror lit by fluorescent light. It's times like this when you start to realise how old you're beginning to look. There are now grey hairs all over my head, which I rather like, but my eyes looked like dough balls and my forehead was like a ridge and furrow field! I once had a nightmare that cress was growing in the deep lines in my forehead. They've always been the cause of much embarrassment and have now gone way beyond anything I can describe as "characterful"!
We lunched in Stock Pot, the only place to eat if you work in theatre, but are out of work. The moment you get a gig in a long running show, it's fancy restaurants all the way!
We met my parents on the Southbank, and then Edward and Sascha cooked a meal for us all. It was a shame Nathan was at work because I don't think there's ever been a time that my Mum and Dad, two brothers and all associated gay lovers have been together in a room.
Tim, John and I are now going to Naked Boys Singing to admire and laugh at Nathan's penis! What a life I live!
350 years ago, Pepys woke up feeling very poorly (a hangover plainly not helped by his wife falling out with her maid.) When he finally emerged from his bedroom after lunch, there was nothing for it but to start drinking again, and he drank like a fish. Do fish drink?
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