Calm Before The Storm

I had a completely strange weekend. It seems that I wasn't destined to stand still for a moment and even though I have plenty of projects to finish, I couldn't attend to any one of them. On Friday evening I was shooting the scenes for this film I'm to appear in. I play a rather unpleasant character who has to face up to some rather unpleasant news - in complete contrast to my real life, of course, where I am a rather pleasant chap who only ever gets pleasant surprises.

The filming was followed by drinks, inevitably, with the rest of the cast and crew. Broadway was awash with luvvies, and with the odd Italian visitor thrown in for good measure. Luckily I didn't get (very) drunk because the following morning I had to head off to put up some Christmas decorations in my old house. I despise Christmas with a vengeance (and one day remind me to tell you about the time I spent Christmas trapped inside a tent on a mountainside with only a shaman from the feared Yanomami Tribe as company), so putting up the decorations was a double chore. Then it was back into town for drinks with aforesaid random Italian and my old friends the Finns. Even this was a restrained affair, despite the presence of the Finns who can usually drink for England. Or possibly Finland.

I was supposed to go sailing on Sunday morning but when we reached the sailing club, the river was over the banks, Ganges-style, and there was no wind, so all racing was abandoned. Thinking that I would get home in time to do something constructive with my time (such as finishing the three plays, two articles, one novel and several short film scripts that I have on the go), I was surprised to be invited to have just "one drink" in The Lord Roberts (such a cosy pub, with a roaring imitation-log fire). One drink, at half past two on a Sunday afternoon – where was the harm in that?

By midnight, I realized that something had gone wrong. In the intervening hours we had moved to the Broadway, then to my apartment where miraculously I managed to cook dinner for me and one of the Finns, then returned to the Broadway for the film company's 'wrap' party (the film is now 'in the can', as we say in the glittering world of movie-making. I hope you realize I'm being ironic here). Anyway, the party rolled on in a Sodom & Gomorrah kind of way and before I knew it, I was home (without any idea how I came to be here) with my stray cat scratching and biting for attention.

Back to work, methinks....