I had a fractious day at work, making some nasty discoveries about files, and was trying to contact the lawyer or accountant, both of whom were unavailable and my chairman off for a week.
My colleague rang at lunch time. She had received some messages to call back clients while on the way to the airport. The car had broken down and would cost £1000 to repair. However, fortunately she managed to catch the plane.
Rather tired, I set off to see A Matter of Life and Death at the Olivier. This was a remake of an old Powell and Pressburger film. I had managed to get a £10 Travelex seat which was amazing value. The play was brilliantly staged, with good singing and music, though it was not a musical. It was absolutely hilarious and very well acted, and I came away feeling satisfied with a good evening.
The flat is still in a frightful mess, sitting room overmantel mirror propped up in the bathroom still, all the packaging from the garden chairs, bench and table have finally been stuffed into three huge rubbish bags, and I have managed to change the sheets and do some washing finally. Going out every night and working during the day does not leave much time for chores.
The vet cabbed me some cat food this morning, but forgot his injection needles, so I will have to continue using the not very good human ones from the local chemist for his insulin jabs.
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