I didn’t wake up at midnight
quite as much as I expected. I think an early night is called for.
My two e-mail inboxes are strangely empty these days. It’s a
bit like standing in a train station after the last train has left and
the station staff have gone home. And it reminds me of that time a few weeks
ago when I went to the village pub and there was nobody in it but me.
On the other hand, I used to love the close-down routine at
the end of the night when I worked at the theatre – having the place all to
myself and putting it to bed.
It’s odd how emptiness can sometimes feel cold and
depressing with a sense of rejection weighing on your spirits, while at other
times it can produce a positive tingle of adrenalin.
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My neighbour has three women friends coming tomorrow to
spend the weekend with her. I expect there’ll be lots of drink-induced
squeaking and squealing going on. Can’t say I’m all that keen on squeaky,
squealy women. I much prefer women who express themselves strongly but subtly
with eyes and facial expressions. Victoria Coren does it brilliantly.
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