Up early and off on the early train, but feeling almost too tired to think for most of the day. However a swim at lunchtime perked me up a while.

Went to see Waiting for Godot at the Barbican Theatre, which is part of the Beckett Centenary Festival with young Hazel. It was both our favourite plays. Funny seeing something that I am so familiar with on the page. I thought the performance was very underpowered in the first half but they got more into it in the second half.

I was surprised at how strongly the character's faith asserted itself for me. Among all the futility of waiting was the idea that they "had kept their appointment" and this gave them a rag of dignity. And the power of the three leaves on the tree in the second act on what was an almost featureless stage.

Bless her, Hazel did it as a cheering me up thing: two hours on the unremitting bleakness of life and the absence of God. Funny.

A Beckett of a journey back in which I managed to miss the connections so didn't arrive home till 1am. Just remembered... I think Beckett was born on Good Friday, on the 13th. Will check.