Snogging up to Stanmore

Feeling a bit vile than I was on Monday morning, that's for sure. Off into work. Thames link, whose trains I ride on to get to St Pancras have got a new train for the 7:22 I catch. Rubbish new  train, with not enough legroom and no little flip down tables and designed to have more room for people to stand in and sardine than actually sit. This country is going to the dogs.

Val phoned from Paris about a job which I will have to do at the weekend. Phoned up the theatre people who have been too disorganised to pay me yet. Beth had been onto them, but I called them too, just to make everyone feel hunted. My patience is beginning to ebb.

Still enjoying working with Keith. He's mercurial, passionate and funny. I've always liked him. And he's a good art director too, which helps a good deal. Got some rather good salmon sushi from a place called Itsu at lunchtime.

Off after work to Stanmore station, and enjoyed walking to Mum and Mason's house, and escape the tube, where two teenagers spent the whole journey snogging in the carriage. It seemed quite odd to see it, I'm sure there was more of that sort of thing going on when I was a lad.

Nice evening, chatting with Mum and Mas of them, marvelling at their new TV (long overdue, although Mum rather misses the stopgap one that Ben lent them that only had subtitles and no sound). Snapped back some spaghetti bolognaise and slugged some wine, and went to bed early. A nice evening.

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