Post 2000
Blogger tells me that this is the two thousandth time I have described a day in this blog. Amazing what a habit it has become.
Up early working on the pitch all day for my lovely French client. Also managed to sort out the printer for the libretto, went to the gym, and attended to many chores.
Richard has now sent me his poems too, so we are inching closer day by day to getting it all sorted. One very nice thing, was back in touch with Mario Petrucci, an old poetry friend who is now rather famous in poetry circles. And we hope to link up again soon, Mario saying we should do a reading together which would be cool bananas.
In the evening escaped my screen and made off to meet Lorraine. We had a quick drink, and I had a bowl of asparagus soup in a pub called the Open House. Both rather exhausted. Matt phoned, and we have the microphone sorted now for the concert, this is good as this was definitely in my top ten gig worries list. Home, and brain dead. Feel like I have been out on the campaign trail. And on that note, odd to see how much Gordon Brown has woken up in the last few days. Gone is the cadaverous gurning, and replaced with a fiery outrage. Too late of course. The general election tomorrow, and it is genuinely hard to call. But I'd be amazed if the Tories didn't get a squeakily narrow parliamentary majority.
Blogger tells me that this is the two thousandth time I have described a day in this blog. Amazing what a habit it has become.
Up early working on the pitch all day for my lovely French client. Also managed to sort out the printer for the libretto, went to the gym, and attended to many chores.
Richard has now sent me his poems too, so we are inching closer day by day to getting it all sorted. One very nice thing, was back in touch with Mario Petrucci, an old poetry friend who is now rather famous in poetry circles. And we hope to link up again soon, Mario saying we should do a reading together which would be cool bananas.
In the evening escaped my screen and made off to meet Lorraine. We had a quick drink, and I had a bowl of asparagus soup in a pub called the Open House. Both rather exhausted. Matt phoned, and we have the microphone sorted now for the concert, this is good as this was definitely in my top ten gig worries list. Home, and brain dead. Feel like I have been out on the campaign trail. And on that note, odd to see how much Gordon Brown has woken up in the last few days. Gone is the cadaverous gurning, and replaced with a fiery outrage. Too late of course. The general election tomorrow, and it is genuinely hard to call. But I'd be amazed if the Tories didn't get a squeakily narrow parliamentary majority.
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