We’re sitting on the sofa, working, with the television on in the background. There’s a programme on about brain surgery, which is fairly distressing. Every time I look up, there’s something ghastly going on. One man has about ten screws drilled into his head and is having an operation on his brain whilst he’s conscious. Absolutely dreadful. I’ve never seen so many stitches on the side of a face before. It’s also incredibly moving. A lad with a fearful tremor has just cried for joy, because, after an operation, he was able to drink from a glass for the first time. Sometimes we forget quite how such small things can be so profoundly meaningful.
The emails went out last night with the results of the NYMT auditions. I could tell because twitter immediately went crazy with most of the cast of Brass messaging to thank me for casting them, which I thought was rather sweet.
I have done little for the rest of the day other than sitting at the kitchen table writing. I haven’t read a newspaper, or seen what’s going on in the outside world for days. I’m so busy I can’t even answer the phone to friends when they ring. It’s incredibly frustrating, but needs must. If I stop now, I’ll never get everything done. Gosh, this is a dull blog entry isn't it? Apologies!