Copy Shop Reunion

Started listening to Claire Tomalin's biography of Dickens this morning. Covering his time in the blacking factory and playing Zombie Gunship as I listened. Found out the French Bloke plays it too. When I closed my eyes after playing it for half an hour or so I saw ant-like zombies with little target boxes on them. Slightly disturbing.

Work fine. I had a good chat with one of the people in the office who has written a TV series, as yet unproduced. The amazingly long drawn out years of haggling and negotiating sound quite soul-destroying. Being a writer is a masochistic business for the majority of us.

A copy shop reunion (CSR) this evening. First Matie and I bussed down to Waterloo and met Reuben in the Stage door. He was drinking a pint with some gusto after a hideous afternoon at work. This rapidly improving though, and we repaired off to one of those greasy spoon cafes that serves cheap and decent Thai grub in the evening. Green tea here (Reuben, with mock smugness: 'I'll have Jasmine tea') and after that a quick sharpener in a nearby pub, Kate left and Reuben and I train hopped to Brighton. Nice to chat, though both of us were really tired. I felt very yawny and shattered by the time I got home. Great to see them both though. It's about sixteen years since we first worked together, amazing really that we are all still friends.

Found a sleepy Lorraine and Calliope in bed.  Dawn staying overnight too after an evening in with Lorraine. Really tired tonight.

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