Sunday 24 May 2015

Rash, bash, crash

I woke up this morning with a rash all over my body. It's something which happens to me occasionally after, or during, periods of great duress, so it's not at all surprising that it's happened right now. It's basically a sort of tingly, prickly heat-type bumpy rash on my hands and feet, and every time I scratch myself elsewhere on the body, I leave a blotchy red mark. A lot of sleep, plenty of water and some decent food ought to sort me out, but something's very definitely telling me to stop. In fact, I fell asleep twice this afternoon, which rather cements my belief that I'm suffering from complete nervous and physical exhaustion! 

We've had a relaxing day at Julie's in Catford. It was Craft and Cake, and every one was knitting. Julie seemed to be making an owl-shaped tea cozy, Tina and Kate were knitting stockings and baby booties respectively, and Sam and Nathan were doing scarves. I curled up on the carpet, ate lemon cake and let the conversation wash over me, whilst attempting to fight the desire to scratch myself!

We watched RuPaul's Drag Race on telly this evening, which is the first time I've ever seen the show. It's the most curious television programme, which seems to be about ten drag queens fighting for supremacy. They bitch, whinge, cat fight, make clothes and do photoshoots to see who is the "fiercest." One of them is told to sashay home every week. It's beyond trashy, but I loved it! 

I played the two Brass films to the assembled masses, and they went down very well. Tina was particularly moved. I reckon I'd like to import Tina into every audience that the show ever has! It's not that I like to see a good friend in a quivering heap of tears, but I didn't write Brass as a light comedy, so tears feel appropriate!! 

We drove home and witnessed the aftermath of two terrible car accidents. One of them, which was near the Blackwall tunnel, looked particularly nasty, with people lying on the Tarmac and queues of cars stretching back for miles. What a dreadful way to end a weekend. 

I'm told it's a bank holiday tomorrow. No wonder Old Street is full of revellers! 

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