I fell asleep on the sofa so deeply earlier this evening that when I awoke I had no idea where I was or what on earth was going on. It turns out I'd fallen asleep in front of the final of The Voice, which was a rather good judgement call if we're to believe bookers from the show recently approached a friend of mine and offered first £40k and then £100k for them to become a contestant with a guaranteed journey through to a certain stage in the competition. I realise that a great deal of reality television is massaged, and to an extent that it has to be to make good viewing, but this particular issue makes me feel slightly uncomfortable. So much, in fact, that I'm rather hoping it's not true.
We had our last day today in this first period of rehearsals for Brass. We actually did a slow run of the entire piece, which made me incredibly proud, despite the fact that the show is almost an hour too long at the moment! I reckon I've got to cut about a fifth of it, which is an horrific thought.
It was very sad to say goodbye to the team. We've been working so so hard over the last few days; very much in our own world. I haven't seen television or read a newspaper since I left Highgate on Monday morning. Leaving the all-encompassing safety of that sort of scenario can be a bit of an anti-climax.
I got really stroppy when I got back home, no doubt because I was tired and overwrought. I hadn't realised quite how much I'd been effected by jumping straight from the wedding into Brass, and took all my frustrations out on a bag of shopping, which I flung to the floor on our way home from Sainsburys. Slightly mortifying.
We've now moved from The Voice to Britain's Got Talent, which is like jumping out of the proverbial frying pan onto the surface of the sun! I suspect I'm feeling too cynical to be drawn in by it. I'm somewhat disgusted by the false hyperbole which drips off the tongues of the judges in these programmes. "You were literally singing for your lives." "That was a world class performance." I almost hate this nonsense more than when they say things like "that was flat as a pancake" (usually when the performer has been singing sharp.)
The messages and emails of support about our wedding continue to trickle in. A lot of people seem to be watching it on a bit of a loop and some of the things that people are writing are extraordinary. It seems we've hit a few buttons out there. People are writing to tell me about their gay children, and how much our mother's song effected them. One lady even wrote to tell me that her father had been gay, and that he'd only admitted it on his death bed. I feel incredibly honoured that people are sharing their stories with us and that our wedding has generated so much, well... Love.