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OK. I'm still not quite back up to speed. We'll be getting at least a… - A Most Illuminating Tale
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Robert Wells or Mr Waters
Date: 3.59 pm, Friday 14th November, 2003
Subject: (no subject)
Security: Public
OK. I'm still not quite back up to speed. We'll be getting at least a phone line next week so I'll get back to posting regularly then.

I'm tired.

I've been keeping very busy and I'm not acting and I'm not applying for enough because I'm so bloody busy.

The raindance festival went well. I met people. Had some good times. Went to the BIFAs with Ian McKellen. Saw 16 years of alcohol (which made me cry like a baby for 90 minutes straight). I ran out of money.

Work in the library is fine. I don't get enough done here. I ought to be applying for jobs but things keep happening and then I check my mail again and then it's five o'clock.

The stuff I won't talk about is because it's about other people and I use this journal to be egotistic so I try not to talk about anyone else.

Last Saturday I went to Oxford and recorded my monologue (the script of which is now on my website). The recording was pretty lousy, so I'm going to do a proper job of it at some point on my own. JAKAL production meeting on Sunday in which we decided yes, we want to do another show, yes, we want to take it to Oxford, Italy and Edinburgh, and yes, I like biscuits. Then back to Coventry. Amusing incident of me trying to help my dad buy a mobile phone. Move to London. Finally out of my Turnpike Lane flat. I have to give the keys back tomorrow and I still haven't sorted out cuitting off the phone.

Wednesday I spent all day in my flat. Determined not to leave until I was properly moved in. No fewer than six calls offering nights out on the town. Thursday I did a bit of Stage Management work. PLayed Italian Job quite a lot. Library today.

See? I do keep moving. I need a holiday and I'm not really working and it's all a blur and I feel like I'm wading through fog. I can't see what I should be doing differently but I'm not doing this right. I just want to crawl into bed and stay there for a year or two and then have a proper sensible day job. Half of my friends have got work and money and make me angry with myself. Half of them are in worse situations than myself which means I can't talk to them about my problems and I can't help them with theirs.

I got an email the other day which simply read:

I dreamt about you last night.
Are you alright?

I still haven't replied because I don't know how to answer that.
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