Winter has officiallly arrived. With snow! Apparently, we haven't had October snow in London since 1934. So it's quite an event. I think we should celebrate with excess and great immaturity - following in the footsteps of BBC broadcasters Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand.Well maybe not stooping to prank calling but at least indulging in some form of childish lewdness. Maybe mooning. (Is it new moon yet?)
My agent called today and I have an audition tomorrow morning, to play a "rosy cheeked waitress who's been working in the same greesy spoon for the last 8 years and wonders what her life might have been..." So watch this space.
I am typing this wrapped in a tartan wool blanket, trying to keep warm, as I refuse to turn the heating on till after nightfall. I don't know why. It's a rule I've made up. And like all made up rules, there's no rhyme or reason to it, but also no way of breaking it. It's just not allowed. Maybe I'm trying to identify with the "fuel poor" and hoping to benefit from the tax windfall from the energy companies. How much do you get if your lips go purple? And pneumonia?
In preparation for typing up my expenses - foreplay for filling out my tax return - I did a huge clear out and some major filing yesterday. There's now a rather unruly pile of papers next to me, waiting to be processed. It has a rather resentful vibe.
There's also a dreadful, intermittent but recurring clanking noise outside on the street. I'm not too worried as I think it's coming from one of the building sites. Sounds like someone banging poles together. Maybe they're taking down some scaffolding. Let's live in hope.
The noise has stopped. Better get on with my expenses then... I've got a whole hour to kill before yoga class!