I had the most horrifying, yet classic anxiety dream last night. I dreamt I was back in my old school hall, having directed a production of Oh What A Lovely War for which, for some peculiar reason, I was also part of the pit orchestra... Playing piano. The whole thing unravelled at high speed. Highlights of the carnage included my forgetting how to play the piano and suddenly realising what a terrible idea it was to put countless ABBA songs into a show about the First World War. On top of everything, none of the performers made it onto the stage in time and several resigned in the interval. I was forced to as lib dialogue and scene change music and every time I put my fingers on the piano keyboard, the most horrific notes sounded. The school hall was full of agents, all thinking I'd created the most dreadful piece of musical theatre ever! That's the sort of dream which tells me there's too much going on in my life which feels out of my control!
It seems we're four days away from a general election, which I assume is going to end in some kind of hung parliament, which I don't think will do us any harm whatsoever. This country doesn't require brave, sweeping reforms at the moment, so I quite like the idea of a chamber of people who actually have to try to get along if they want to achieve anything! My advice to anyone who is still undecided about how to vote is to be brave and simply plump for the candidate you think is the most decent human being, regardless of who their leader is.
In Hornsey and Wood Green we're rather lucky in that our MP, Lynne Featherstone, is not just a fiercely good constituency MP, but a person with great integrity who fights for human rights on an international platform. I can't really think of a better combination. She has been marvellous in the fight against FGM, and, of course, instigated the same sex marriage bill, which was so important for Nathan and me... And LGBT people everywhere.
Lynne happens to be a Lib Dem, which means a lot of people will turn their backs on her this time round, which, frankly, if you're a member of the LGBT community, feels a little ungrateful, particularly when you consider what a mountain she had to climb in order to get that particular bill through parliament.
If Lynne doesn't get in, she'll be replaced by Labour, who, I'm told, are so certain they're going to win here that they've all but stopped campaigning, which seems a tad arrogant. I've had nothing through my door from them and seen no evidence of them canvassing anywhere.
We had to work all afternoon today. No rest for the wicked and all that... Nathan sat knitting, and I completed a call sheet for the shoot next week, which seemed to take an inordinate amount of time. You have to be thorough or things have a habit of falling apart.
We went to Brother Edward and Sascha's this evening to eat wonderful food and watch Eurovision Song Contest highlights... Or pre-lights. This year, as I've found myself saying so many times, it's all about Sweden, who've entered another absolute corker with a brilliant gimmick. Italy, Norway and Slovenia are also submitting strong songs. I'd love to say that the UK will do well but we won't. The more I see our entry, the more ashamed and angry I feel. It's cheap tat. Like a plastic necklace in a jewellery box otherwise filled with beautifully crafted gemstones.