All the alarm clocks rang between 5.45 and 6am. I cancelled every single one of them. Then the failsafe one across the room forced me out of bed at 6.12 swearing into my socks. Ten minutes later I was behind the wheel of my car. Eight minutes later I was in the queue at Gregg’s in the Applegreen garage south of Vauxhall. Flat white and a bacon sarnie for three quid. Back into the car trying not to get ketchup all over my legs. Omnomnom and I’m out of London before the traffic has had time to wake up and I’m on the open road and about half way to Tonbridge before I start to remember my own name.

8.15 and I walk into a school in Tonbridge and they want a paper copy of my DBS which I don’t have. She’s not making it easy when my contact shows up and tells me that the workshop I’m supposed to be assisting is no longer at 8.45, it’s at 11.45. “But I’ve got my preflight Covid test at 13.20 in Putney,” I say. Ben is leading. I’m here just because with 80 students it’s helpful for the leader to have cover. “Don’t worry mate. You go back. I can do this on my own. It’s the office’s mistake.” I would’ve said the same thing.

It’s 8.45 and I’m wide awake now. I’ve had a self tape come in with an NDA. They haven’t sent the sides over yet and America is sleeping. I want to try to get it taped before we fly tomorrow but I can’t if I don’t know what I’m saying.

I drive to Richmond and have a haircut while I wait. Then to Putney for my test. Negative of course. I grab a sandwich in Pret. The office emails me to tell me they are still gonna pay me. Result.

I go back to Richmond as the sides have come in. Two tiny scenes, but character will keep coming back in the series. Even if right now he has no name.

Tristan shoots the scenes with me. I wear one of his suits, open at the collar. Don’t want to look too stiff for this guy. They want a full length ident. That’s always a big ask in a self tape. We do it in Tanya’s Pilates studio. There’s a skeleton to my left. We cover plug sockets and blemishes with stuff. It looks like an arthouse pop video from the nineties. Name. Agent. Height. Done. With a manual zoom. (Aka Tristan walking).

I go home. Lou arrives. We fill in lots of forms. I somehow get my birthdate wrong on one of them and I can’t resubmit it. Tits. I’m tired. It’ll be fine.

Hot bath. Company. Warmth. Sleep. Zzzz

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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