Singles Night

Another rammed day. Lordy I had to get up and scuttle along the street to hand in my car keys at one minute past eight. Ridiculous. 
And so much to squeeze in. A meeting in the Bell Block as I’m "co-ordinating" the Christmas Party. Gawd. MA requests a meeting - she’s offered to do games. She’s doing two rubbish games; that’s it. Could I buy the prizes for her? Honestly, she’ll need her food cut up by someone too.
The previous evening Mr T and I had agreed to meet in the Cameo Bar at 2pm for a 2:30pm film. It had seemed like a good idea. Within 10 minutes I heard a slow regular heavy breathing beside me. He needed it; I wasn’t far off that myself. Anatomy of a Fall. It is a bit overlong; the slowness I can usually put up with. And it does keep you engaged. Whodunnit, innit.
Then a sprint to Stills to hear two photographers - Douglas Corrance (in the flat cap), very recently interviewed in the Guardian and Craig Atkinson, yes he from Café Royal Books. If I thought the film was slow, those Q&As........
But afterwards I was joined by Granton’s own MrFT and he bought me a beer. Well, he did owe me one. It's always a good idea to be owed beer.