Chaos

On the tube today, I sat next to a woman who was writing the most brilliantly vitriolic text message, which included a liberal smattering of the c word, alongside various threats of violence and a few cries of "pity me!" I tried not to look, but it was all too delicious! I was sort of hoping that she'd reach her destination and decide not to send the text, but the look of defiance on her face told me it was a done deal!  Happy Christmas! 

The tubes in London are full of very strange people at the moment. Christmas time has arrived. During the day, thousands of over-excited school children scream and wave and run around, and in the evenings it's people dressed up to the nines, pissed out of their skulls, barely functioning and destroying the lovely clothes that made them look so sharp and sophisticated at the start of the evening. Yesterday, as I tried to rush from the Central line to the Northern line at Tottenham Court Road, I came across a group of girls trying to negotiate a small flight of stairs. It was not pretty. There were broken stilettos, patches of mascara and clasp handbags spilling tampons all over the place. One girl had decided it was all too much and was lying horizontally along a step. It took me 3 minutes to negotiate the obstacle, during which time not a single one of them seemed to notice me or realise I was trying to pass. 

Last night's autocue gig was hideous! There was a technical problem which meant I couldn't actually hear Matt. I could hear his echo and could lip-read him on a monitor, but nothing else. I kept going too slowly. I think he thought I'd got myself drunk in the break! We had to keep re-doing links and I felt terribly guilty. 

This afternoon I did a corporate drumming gig for the wonderful Drum Pulse at the Truman Brewery in the East End. It was great fun, although hauling 70 large drums up several flights of stairs brought on a few little whoops. When on earth will I finally shake this blooming' illness? 

350 years ago, and Pepys was up at 5am by candlelight. He went to Chelsea to do some work with or at the Privy Seal before returning to London where he went to the theatre.  
The Cutter of Coleman Street was a premier, which meant tickets were double the price. To save money, Pepys and Elizabeth sat in the gallery - and were pleasantly surprised by the view.