I went to Pimlico today for a lunchtime meeting in one of the town house on Vincent Square. It's astonishing to think that people actually own whole houses in fancy locations like that! We were discussing Brass, my musical about the First World War, in advance of a meeting tomorrow with people from the Arts Council.
I arrived early, as usual, and sat in a pub for half an hour, busily writing a synopsis for the piece, still buzzing from our trip to France. The pub was playing a highly eclectic, slightly random set of songs from all eras of pop music. I assume someone's iPod was on shuffle because what else unifies an obscure song by the Beatles, the Fine Young Cannibals, Rhianna and, most bizarrely, I'm in the Mood for Dancing by the Nolan Sisters!? I'd forgotten what a camp classic that song is. First the shoulders said yes, then my head started nodding and before long I was making a right tit of myself! I caught the eye of the woman behind the bar. She looked at me with pity.
I came home and took myself for a much-needed massage. I'd woken up in the night in considerable pain from my back but am rather pleased to say that the massage seems to have nipped things in the bud.
I'd like to say I'm taking things easy this evening but it still feels like there's half a tonne of stuff to do.
Perhaps I'll watch Eastenders and then get on with my work. Is it me, or is Sharon's hair a weird shade of green? Too much peroxide in the swimming pool, I suspect!