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One of the things I turned up recently is a thurible. It’s likely Islamic in origin, I’m not certain. But it’s the perfect accessory to my obsession with smoky sniffs. With a little disc of treated charcoal and a pinch of Frankincense resin, I can make the whole world smell of ritual, and entertain the cats with a swingy thing into the bargain. I changed the cat litter the other day as it was ponging out the bathroom, and twenty minutes wandering around with this thing was enough to get the memory out of my nostrils.

Now I’ve got some weird stinky oud, loads of Frankincense and a lifetime worth of Japanese temple incense. I burn things all the time, but I would have to be dedicated and hardworking to successfully burn everything I currently own before I fuck off into another existence.

The cats are lying on me at the moment else I’d spark it up and wang around the place swinging smoke and pretending I’m a proper sanctioned holy man rather than just an enthusiastic exponent of ritual and belief.

They’ve been a little put out with me, the cats, as I’ve been going through the crap in the fridge today and then banging around with pots and pans cooking when they expect me to just chill out. Lot and I were bopping in the living room to Tears For Fears on the Alexa. And Bananarama. They were unimpressed. I’m going to spare them an evening of weird smoke and just curl up with them now. It’s cold. I put a light duvet on last night so Lou and I don’t cook at night. Now the temperature has dropped so I’m clinging to these felines for warmth and dammit it’s June.

The contents of the fridge make a great deal more sense now. I’ve been making a start on line learning. Tomorrow I’m meeting a wonderful mad collaborator and hopefully there’ll be some work soon, making people smile. And I get to hang with a best friend tomorrow oh my God I never get to hang with her and she is coming to the premier of a delightful bonkers British comedy movie I’m lucky enough to have a small part in. Wahoo.

Urgh my tummy has been complaining all day today. I’ve got myself into bed early and I think I’ll just curl up with the cats and sack it off until tomorrow. I’ll need to still be awake when Lou gets home but that’s the extent of it.

She’s just started on her new gig, taking over with running wardrobe for the Master Builder remix in the West End. I’ll go see it soon but wanted her to settle in first. It’ll be nice to have her here for a month or so. I expect I’ll come out the end of the month much healthier than I am now. Right now my intestines are very unimpressed at my decision to have hot chicken bites and a pint last night instead of supper.

The cats are providing good company and its a warm evening. I spent the day catching up on admin and pottering around in my local area. I’m happy Lou has started her new job in the West End. It feels like a wee while since I’ve had any traction on the acting work. Something will roll in. August has always strangely been a lucky month for me. And generally I’m a summerlover. But at least I’ll get to see some good theatre.

For tonight though just a rest and looking after my funny tummy. Lots of line learning on the horizon, and the strange little day jobs are clicking back in. Things will start to feel busy again so I’m gonna try and keep enjoying this slightly empty time and treat it as an opportunity to breathe it and allow all the weird things like upset tummies to happen because they can because they aren’t getting in the way of life.

Still, an early bed. I should have given Lou keys, but it’ll be nice to be up when she gets home. I’ll try and stay awake and take my phone off silent.

A lovely slow Sunday. The weather might have been less windy but for the first day of meterological summer I am okay with it. The wind wasn’t freezing. Just present.

We went for a stroll in the park, by the serpentine, Marie and I. We’ve been friends for a while and we danced in a window during lockdown with mascot heads on. That sort of thing bonds people, to the extent that she has been able to put up with my awful ADHD accounts and admin blackout and largely get the tax return in on time. Although I did get fined crazily for one year when she was too busy and gave up. Largely she’s been a lifeline though and without her I would be in an even worse position than I am. God, the dream of consistent employment in my profession… A few close friends have booked a whole year on stage in the west end. I’ve kept this flat, believed and believed. Surely something soon. There’s a premier coming up for a lovely wee britflick. I’ve got my American movie coming. But where the fuck are the meetings? It’s not like they aren’t making anything anymore. I’m feeling like I’m right at the top of my game, right in my casting, and there’s nothing, but for what I’m generating myself. I think that’s likely to be the thing I’m gonna have to go towards.

A pleasant walk. Then up to Camden to feed a friend’s cat. Great big silly old Boy. I gave him more water than he likes with his food cos it’s hot and he’s on his own. He was working through it when I left. Flying visit.

Then to the Edinboro Castle and a strategy meeting and catch up with Shoe. And maybe a pint. Now I’m home and covered in cats and it feels like it was a good day all round. A proper Sunday. Now for the week in technicolour. I’m ready for it.

Off to a unit in Old Street much like the one I’m looking for, where Callum has a large selection of glorious Elizabethan costumes and props. Bottom heads and Chanticleers and boxes of ruffs. I ended up with a green jerkin for Fluellen and a nice top for Burgundy. What the fuck am I doing? It’s like The Factory but I don’t know these people, we will have posh clothes on, and we are only working off cue scripts. I’m playing Fluellen at a history festival in Wiltshire.

Years ago I was asked to play Fluellen by the OH Players, the AmDram outfit associated with my old school. My willingness led me to say “yes” to them for a while with Don Pedro and Shylock but then it got like too much work. I care deeply about my career. I can’t be involved really, it does no good. The last time I was asked, it was for Fluellen. He’s Welsh. “I only do these parts if I think the learn will be useful professionally down the line,” I said. “I’ll never be asked to play Fluellen professionally.”

Bugger. I couldn’t have expected that.

I’ve got a lot of prose to learn now, look you. And it is in a Welshish Shakespearey accent – that’s in the text, look you. I’ll have to make sense of it. Playing Burgundy as well. He at least gets to be delightful and versey. It’s probably for the best I didn’t do Flu back in the day, for many reasons. But I’ve got prose to learn. Fuck it. I eat verse. Prose is slow.

Summer is a good time for Shakespeare though, and energetically this festival feels like a right thing. New friends, passion and work. It should be joyous.

For now though I’m home and knackered. The day started in the dump trying to offload loads of paint and contaminated Euro Crates. They wouldn’t let me dump a tiny amount of white spirit and polish because its flammable so it is better to book an appointment to have it safely disposed of instead of finding a drain and just pouring the fucking stuff into it. Less than two litres in total. Still, I made progress. Horrid glass covered books, done and recycled. A Bergman load, emptied. I need to do at least two more next week.

I’m knackered. Cables are heavy. I’ve been working through the things that came from a clearance job. I’m having to decommission the bit of me that likes having nice things. Today was just about cataloguing. Photo and description of everything. No time to Google it or go on eBay and filter for sold items. When I walked in to the unit this morning my brain was fried by the quantity. The unit has no working strip light, even though the ones on either side both do. I got mardy with the receptionist, who refused to even consider being helpful. I’ve been fond of that place but frankly it can do one. I’ll keep the unit a couple more weeks but whatever turns up I’ll be moving it to Armadillo where at least there’s lighting.

I even bought a bulb for the strip light. But they’ve isolated it and they won’t make it work. Straw. Camel. “The units aren’t supposed to have lighting.” Repeat ad nauseam.

Still, one of the euro crates had some string light spheres in it which had been adapted to run off power bars. The power bars still had battery. I rigged up my own lighting, swearing all the time. Had to bring most things into the corridor but it was better than darkness, having some working lights. They are making out like running an LED strip light which I purchased in the unit would somehow cost a fortune. Smalltown dumb people.

I got through everything but 18 euro crates. That sounds like a lot but honestly I’m pretty pleased with myself for what I signed off. Next time I go I can do some targeted work to finish those crates. Bergie is full of rubbish with a trip to Wandsworth dump scheduled tomorrow. It was a good day’s work today.

There are some nice things that aren’t sensitive, which is a huge relief. Then there are some nice things that might be sensitive and some nice things that ARE sensitive. And loads and loads of gubbins. I’ll throw away the gubbins by car, find a dealer for the books, likely try and scrap the cables, and simultaneously empty up that expensive dark idiotlocker and recoup some costs. I’ve got time pressure now as I don’t want to give any more money than I absolutely have to to them just on principle, since they won’t flick a switch for me. I’ll have to dispose of some things very carefully.

They need two weeks notice to cancel them, the units. I might give notice on both units tomorrow, I’m only keeping one of them in case of a second job in the vicinity. I need to process the contents of the dark one quickly and then just have done with that silly little place. It’s family run and they’re friendly, but actually they’re douchebags, making me work all day in the dark at the rate I’m paying just to save tuppence. “If they were lit we’d have to charge you more.” Oh get fucked. I could see light spill from the units either side of me. They’ll wait until the tenant changes and take the light out of them too when it does. Eejits. Saving pennies, losing pounds. I’ll be out ASAP now. Might have been lazy otherwise especially as it’s a long drive out there. It’s good to have the catalyst to move quickly. Screw them and their dark unit, it was a nice day today and I’ve been in twilight for all of it.

I’m in Sturry. Even the name is suspicious. I booked the cheapest room on booking.com local to the storage units as it has become time to work out what the fuck is in my storage unit.

There’s a bloodstain on my single duvet cover. I’ve loaded up the cats with food and water in my absence. I’m here.

Today was looking at the big stuff, and there’s some awkward things to move on. There’s also some good things, it’s not all bollocks. But there’s a guy who has been slowly creaming off the good stuff for years whilst charging storage. I don’t like him for it. But this stuff has provided money for many of my friends in the shifting. The only person I haven’t paid is myself. And this is what I’m trying to do now, with the time I’ve got. Time to pay myself if there’s any value left after what Andy has cherrypicked.

For tonight though, this horrible tiny cheap room. The landlady was wandering around in the street when I arrived, looking a bit confused. I’m in now, and I’m in a single bed, and the internet is good now I’ve taken it off the router. I’m pretty chill about the fact it isn’t nice because the mattress is fine and there’s internet. The blood on the duvet has been washed a few times. And it looks like it was from an ingrown toenail. They’ve been thoughtful by putting it on top rather than hiding it, perhaps. It’s above my left toe on the outside, so I reckon it was from a right toe on the inside. And I write this as a man who had horrific toes as a teenager so I know that blood well. I ended up having an operation after teen Al said in earshot of matron: “you know when you step on the floor in the morning and pus flies out of your toe so far it hits the door and you have to clear it up? That’s why I was late.”

I was lucky. It was extremely painful but I just believed it was destined to get better, that it was “growing pains”. My mate Tim was at posh boarding school too where parents don’t give a fuck. He did the same, left it longer, didn’t have Claire Braine-Nicholls as a matron and ended up with one foot and half a leg amputated from gangrene. I reckon they just got it in time with me. When I think back on the level of heat and pain in that injury it gives me perspective on when antibiotics are actually needed.

I’m not gonna bleed on my duvet anymore. My toes still ingrow but I know how to manage myself much better. Eventually. It took me a long time.

Lots of work to do tomorrow but I’m up for it. Bedtime now. It’s fun, in a weird way, making sense of all this stuff. Today and tomorrow are about cataloguing. Thereafter is dealing with it all.

A much better day today. Shakespeare workshops again for Alabama and Tennessee kids. Bluetooth speakers and text packs. I packed a load of balls into my bag as I absolutely love to greet them by telling them to catch a ball. It gets them into a play state right away, and anyone who knows The Factory knows how helpful a play state is for telling a … A play.

We made parties, we worked with text, we fought, died and fell in love, we did all sorts of things together. Two of us, which appears to be standard… My first few workshops with these guys I was on my own. It’s nicer in a pair, and they give an hourly rate which is barely over the invigilation rate. For the energy and thought required, ’tis a long way down my list. My time is precious. I had to get in and out of central London. As my dad used to say, it is money positive time. We have to make sure we have enough of that. Better to have two hours than none, although my time is precious right now for sorting through shit.

I got a Lime bike in and out of central London. Forest think my house is central London and send me miles away to a local bike rack, so Lime is much better for pick up and drop off. Lazy software is gonna give it to the big company and I’m sad about that but practicality is important. I was gonna drive to Canterbury tonight, but realised I didn’t want to leave the cats two nights without care. They have everything automated but they need snuggles. I’ll strike out tomorrow morning instead, and stay out tomorrow night.

A better day for weather thankfully. I’m tired out and all I had to do was be enthusiastic for a few hours about something that I’m enthusiastic about. These workshops… I like them, but genuinely what they’re getting is worth lots more than what they are paying. I don’t like giving my time for cheap anymore, I had a good twenty years being exploited and the “experience” it gave me informs that thinking…

Anyway. Bedtime with the cats. Canterbury tomorrow. Joy.

In my optimism I cooked up some fresh ravioli that had been in the fridge for a week, even though it smelt funny. One mouthful was plenty for me to know it wasn’t gonna work. Absolutely vile. Put me in a right old mood.

It doesn’t help that the weather is slipping. June approaches, let’s keep this summer thing going a bit longer shall we? I’m not ready for long nights and jumpers again quite yet. I’m never really ready for long nights and jumpers but I’ll be better at it if I’ve been able to work on my tan going in.

I did manage to have a good lunch, in fact I’ve generally been sure to feed myself excellently today, but I can’t hold my hand up and tell you it was a good day. Mister achieveyface was not coming to play. I need to be hustling, working the angles, reminding partitioners and casting professionals how bloody marvellous I am and how lucky they are that right now I just happen to be free!!

So yeah. Rest rest rest. Me me me. Largely today has been the inside of a flat and the inside of a head. I put shoes on thinking I was gonna go shopping but then found some oat milk. I did some laundry. Had a bath. Paid someone and someone paid me. “Adulting”.

I nearly pulled up a load of carpet but the prospect of the dust put me off. And the work. Was feeling spectacularly demotivated all day long. It’s gonna go soon though that old carpet… It was meant to go in march!

Not today though. Today was slow despite it being a work day and I mustn’t do that too often but from time to time it is permissible. Back to work tomorrow. I’m turning in words without thought tonight. It’s like I’m already asleep.

It was meant to be research, but it was a little bit more like two mates hanging out. Siwan and I, up in Hampstead. We’ve done the Halloween walk on and off for a few years now. It’s about now that we have to start thinking about it.

I was tired today. Didn’t want to do drinks so I drove up to Hampstead. Broke my journey meeting up with a young actress who is trying to work out where the cracks are in the glass ceiling. It doesn’t stop being shite but the joy is joyful. I wasn’t sure how much help I could be. I keep plugging away and nowadays people ask for me or give me nice profiley jobs from time to time and that’s a lovely thing. If I wanted to I could open up my can of worms, but we’ve all got one. They’re just worms. I work. That’s a magical thing. Yes, being recognisable would mean I work more because non-practitioners haven’t got as much imagination as practitioners. But I’m a lucky one. I can largely exist in my industry and tick over, even if I’m having to be resourceful in the gaps, I’m still here. Hooray.

She’s in a place I recognise. My parents were blocking the acting with every inch of life they had left, so I found David Munroe and Michael Mcallion to advise me. Gorgeous humans. They both died suddenly. My parents were busy dying and then the people who held space for me shuffled off suddenly and I got this horrendous hit of “if I love someone they’ll die” which took me about a decade and a half to unpack. Might have been quicker if I’d paid for therapy, I went for eccentricity, overtalking and booze, as I went to a CBT lady for one session and quite correctly realised that CBT is fucking useless if you’re ADHD as you’ll just yammer. It’s slow going the self medication route but fuck me you know who your friends are at the end of it cos they’ve put up with you. I’m alright now. Hopefully I can be helpful for this young actor and not immediately kark it.

In the hopes of that, I’m plotting Halloween with Shoe and its fun. We hit some walks and streets and stories despite the shitty weather. Now I’m home and gonna hit the hay but glad to have got out on the heath even if just briefly.

Lots of work for myself in the next month. I’ll need to be motivated and not distracted. This month will make sense of my next few months of life. I’m gonna need to be organised and resourceful. Plus I’ve got fucktons of line learning to do. Ugh.

Effortless welcome day of nothing. Think you did fuck all? I’ll raise ya.

The wedding last night ate all my thinking. The first one where I had collated the material. Was it gonna work? Was it gonna land? Would we remember it? Venue fuckery made me want to turn in a blinder. Client was lovely. We nailed it. Then I walked home through late night London and stopped briefly under millennium bridge to dance with the guy outside the salvation army shelter who likes to make his vicinity into a little portable rave courtesy of a gargantuan backpack speaker and a bicycle. It puts me in mind of the “ghetto blaster” thing in the eighties. Largely, portable music is stigmatised. I sometimes like it when people break the social contract on purpose. I made an Instagram reel as it felt old school and somehow redolent of youthful freedom. I associate dance music with simpler younger times.

Today I lay on a bed with cats. I only really got up to make coffee. Ordered curry for dinner. Had eggs on toast for breakfast. Pretty much any effort was off the list, I really couldn’t be bothered to do thinking things, practical things, anything things. Didn’t even watch anything on telly. Played a bit of magic the gathering, stroked the cats. I’m a teenager again! Bedtime now and I don’t deserve it, but it is almost eleven and by rights I should have been asleep hours ago. I’ll drink a bottle of water and switch myself off, curl up with the fluffpots and see about being a little less of a nothing tomorrow. I did have a little walk in the evening. Wandered up the road, cut through the Chelsea streets, saw an old friend. And I’m knackered. Honestly, the idler we get the more tired we feel. This is a strong argument in favour of exercise.