Malarial

It's been another epic working day, which started at 8am and ended at ten tonight. I'm starving hungry, buzzing from too many cups of tea, I have a vague headache behind the eye, but I do feel I've achieved a great deal. At the moment, I'm like a machine; throwing music at virtual manuscript, getting the shape of things and then returning to look at it in finer detail. It's like a sort of mania.

Because I'm over-dramatic and a little bit emotional at the moment, I decided first thing this morning that Nathan's fever in the night was the product of his somehow managing to pick up malaria from the Dominican Republic. I even telephoned the centre for tropical disease to see if they could give me some advice. They weren't in, so I left a message. They probably heard the hypochondria in my voice, because they don't seem to be in any great rush to call me back! In retrospect, and having spent the day with Nathan, I'm almost convinced he's fine, and simply suffering from a bit of a chesty cough! He seems rather chipper this evening in fact; certainly not malarial. (I'm basing this on Cheryl Cole.)

Bubbling away in the background all week have been thoughts of this weekend's Brass recalls, which promise to be desperately manic! The kids have been split into six groups, each of whom are ours to do with as we please for a couple of hours. Four of the groups have 11 or 12 people in them, which strikes me as a very decent number for a recall, but then there are two rather epic groups with 30 kids in them, which is terrifying, especially on the day that our esteemed director, Sara, can't be there.

I suspect at least some of my day tomorrow will be spent prepping what on earth we're going to do in that session!! Flying by the seat of my pants will almost definitely come into the equation! Asking Nathan to come and help? Check. That's if he's not in hospital!