Breaking the mould

The few review tickets I've bid for since I was accepted as a reviewer last summer have gone to other, more experienced, people but I got a message this morning saying that tonight's reviewer for Somerset Maugham's The Circle was ill and could I stand in, review to be submitted first thing tomorrow? About an hour earlier, I'd decided not to buy a ticket for myself and to continue my productive day into the evening but I said yes instantly then cast around for a friend to come with me.

My day thus far had included hauling this kitchen carcass out from the tarp it's been under since round about the time I was accepted as a reviewer and acknowledging that its next home is a skip. I love how it's grown camouflage mould though, to go with my bricks, quarry tiles and slate wall cappings.

Other major achievements before cycling out to the theatre in the pouring rain included emailing my complaint letter to the architect (which has been in various forms of draft since round about the time I was accepted as a reviewer) and asking the owner of the security lights in the car park behind my house to lower them so they don't shine intermittently throughout the night into my bedroom, as they have been doing since even before I was accepted as a reviewer. And reading a bit about Somerset Maugham and The Circle.

I knew nothing before that about the play, and a comedy of manners (or was it?) set a century ago had too shiny a surface for me to get hold of. By the end I had no idea where to start writing and no idea of the meaning of 'dash off a few hundred words'.

However, sometime early tomorrow...