Sick day
Woke this morning feeling positively ill: shakily exhausted, weak limbs and liquidly explosive guts. I spent the day on the gold sofa, sleeping through a series of podcasts. Only Calliope delighted, as she sat on me most of the day.
Particularly galling was that I was unable to co-host the telltale poetry night in Lewes which was an opportunity to see my poetry pals, meet new ones as well as craftily promote my play. The day a complete write off from any kind of working perspective. Chats with Mum on FaceTime and later Janet, back from the hospital. By coincidence Bryn is in the next bed to Ken, which made things a bit easier. Also Ken actually slept the night before and was a lot brighter.
At tea time I watched an excellent documentary made by Bob Geldof about W.B. Yeats on BBC iPlayer. Lorraine having a positive week. Beth rehearsed with Kitty tonight, which went well.
Particularly galling was that I was unable to co-host the telltale poetry night in Lewes which was an opportunity to see my poetry pals, meet new ones as well as craftily promote my play. The day a complete write off from any kind of working perspective. Chats with Mum on FaceTime and later Janet, back from the hospital. By coincidence Bryn is in the next bed to Ken, which made things a bit easier. Also Ken actually slept the night before and was a lot brighter.
At tea time I watched an excellent documentary made by Bob Geldof about W.B. Yeats on BBC iPlayer. Lorraine having a positive week. Beth rehearsed with Kitty tonight, which went well.
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