At least I'm getting a full refund from my fringe venue, and for the programme entry. That's a few quid coming back in.
Took Mum her weekly supplies (stuff she can't carry back from the shops herself with a pyscho dog), dumping 9 bog rolls, a load of kitchen roll and some treats on her doorstep, before a well-distanced 10-minute chat from opposite ends of the garden path. She's okay, but she's a concern - I just don't think she's still taking this seriously.
My car engine is SO loud. I'm sure it's fine. Barely have to drive it these days, anyway.
My electric kit arrived. Spent an hour setting it up, then having a quick play of it - the snare, hi-hat, bass and crash sound great. The ride is overpowering and the toms are so quiet. But it's fine, it was £300, you get what you pay for and it'll get me through.
Turns out that, even though it was silent in the room (playing to my headphones), the vibrations of the bass drum were coming through the ceiling, annoying A when she was in the lounge. Not a happy way to be in these tense times of being on top of each other anyway, so we stripped out the conservatory and I re-built the kit and my office space in there. Two hours later and it's pretty awesome, very happy to work there for the next few months, or however long this takes.
Then drummed for two hours, to Joe Jackson albums, just because I can.
Did a bit of teaching admin and entered discussions with a publisher about my 2018 play in the evening. A few things still ticking over as the whole world descends around us.
No comments:
Post a Comment