Confessions of a Struggling Actor

What a dickhead I can be.  Or more like an ostrich, head in the sand...

Last week I called the Inland rev about my tax explaining that i had my password letter with me, so could they send me a copy of my User ID.  This arrived yesterday and I tried to put my tax on last night.  It didn't work and the helpline was closed, so I called this morning as soon as I got into work.  As I was speaking I noticed that the letter was from 2005 and not last year.  Feeling like a right royal tube, I thanked the (slightly puzzled) operator for their time and hung up.  I've only got tonight to fish through my documents to see if the newer password is about and, if not, fill out the paper form.  I'm about ready to cry, but it's all my own fault.  I had the docs ready in August for the tax men to sort it out for me, but got distracted by Romeo and Juliet and the day job.  Then I couldn't remember where I put it and held off thinking that I'd be able to just do it online.  Idiot.

It just adds to the stress I'm feeling at the moment.  The day job has been mental as since the middle of december someone in our team has been out of the office on holiday or illness.  Earlier this week we had 3 (plus newbie) out of 8 (incl. newbie).  My superior (in title only) is still ill and so I've become the main guy for all the questions as well as continuing to train/look after our new girl.  I've been away from my desk (and therefore the bulk of my day-2-day stuff) most of the time and am heading to India next Wednesday for 24 hours before heading back.  Just too much...

The social life hasn't abated either.  After my eye test (they're getting worse), I went to Andy McQuade's for a reading of 'Rasputin'.  It's the same author as my one man play at the start of last year and for a first draft it's really interesting.  Even more was meeting the lovely American Anne Pickles again and even more interesting was meeting a director called Sam Davis Miller, who has since offered me Banquo in a production of MacB in May.  Andy's off to India himself to write his life story (he's got a book deal) but is nowhere near Bangalore next week.  it was good to see Will (the playwright) again.  Mad as a box of badgers, but very funny and great at writing dialogue.  Drank too much.

Next lunchtime I met up with Dave Quaite and Abigail.  Was great to see them, esp. as I'd not heard from them much over the previous few months - apart from the phone call Dave made telling me he had asked her to marry him.  I should see them again when I get back from India for Mark's birthday celebrations.

Burn's night was uneventful.  I was late in work and knackered in the evening, so missed the free haggis in the pub.  I called my Granda as it was his birthday and spoke to my mum for a bit but was generally down.  I'm generally pretty morose in January (unless I'm performing) and want to hibernate as a rule, though that might well be Feb this year.

Friday night I had work drinks and then went down to Balham to meet Sue, Mark and Nadia and Becky and Emmy.  the caht was flowing - mainly at Mark and his advancing years, we played top trumps that i got with my healthy dinner of a Happy meal and yapped the night away.  Around 11 I realised i was pished again and left, having to get off the tube to wee and then getting back on the last service of the night.  Classy.

The next night wasn't much more genteel.  Luke and Gareth came round for PS2 fun for the first time in the year and watched the ManU game over a few tins, before I went down to Camden to meet some of the footy boys for my ex-flatmate Murph's birthday.  The drinking was heavy and there was some champange at the end of the night.  I got hime a little boozy to get a phone call as I was entering my flat from Tom, who had a few hours earlier had become a father for the first time.  he came round and picked me up and we sought out beer and whisky at 2.30am.  I was flagging as soon as i got in his place and after some drunken celebrations and caht I went to sleep fully clothed with no cover.  Later that morning I got up and made it to football in time.  Some others did not and we lost 6-0 with 10 men and I hurt like hell for the rest of Sunday and all yesterday.

So, from now until the end of Feb, I've decided I'm busy virtually every night - even if i've nothing in my diary I know there are some dates to make up with friends and girls that I've already promise to meet.  Far too much to deal with altogether at the moment...