Hungover

Quiet day today. Brian had a migraine and I had a hangover. Going to Vault Festival is always lovely as I get to see loads of glorious people who live in the industry I live in and get tangled up in the similar tangles, but are mostly clever enough not to try to find words for them and post them online. They make shows out of them instead.

I got drunk with James and called him Tom. That happens a lot. He didn’t seem to mind. Good old long suffering Tom. There was quite a lot of wine. It definitely had an effect on me. By the end of the night, it’s entirely likely that I had an animated conversation about something with any one of you, and that now I’ve completely forgotten I even saw you. You could probably get away with pretending you’d lent me some money. I regretted it in the morning but it was a good night as far as I remember. Mostly laughing. Eventual falling over.

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One of the people I was out with doesn’t drink. I always get drawn to that. I frequently stop entirely for long periods. I am so aware that the livers on my mother’s side are not strong. I don’t particularly want to keel over until I’ve had more fun. And sometimes the fun and the alcohol are all tangled up together. But you can have fun without booze. Oh it’s a thorny one. Best have a glass of wine.

This evening I went to a monthly meeting in my Buddhist district. When it was all kicking off with the car in Jersey, my district leader sent me a WhatsApp asking how I was. I responded “stuck. Help. Chant!” She did, and we got unstuck. Whether or not the two things are related – (I like to think they are) – I still wanted to thank her. This year in Nichiren Buddhism is called “The year of Brilliant Achievement” and I’ve already shifted agents, plus booked a short film and a lovely wee theatre job, and sorted things out in Jersey. Life is pretty damn good. Next up fitness, which I’ve been talking about for a while without doing much to back it up. If I keep putting it into this blog eventually I’ll be ashamed enough at my own inertia to build a new habit. For now though, this cup of wine.

Going to The Vaults got me thinking. Robin has given me a chance to write something for performance. She is generating work for herself and others. I might put my new-found scribbling habit to good use and do that. Brian, obviously, makes a lot of work gloriously possible for a lot of people. JamesTom keeps making work for himself. There’s plenty of stuff I want to put into a work of art. When I get back from teetotal gym with my washboard stomach and my lovely girlfriend then I can write with one hand while painting the flat with the other and changing the carpet with my tongue.

Dammit – I just checked out last year’s blog and I was waxing lyrical about daily yoga…


Year One – Yogaworks yoga works

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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