smokingboot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
smokingboot) wrote2007-07-23 12:48 pm
smokingboot) wrote2007-07-23 12:48 pm
Entry tags:
Wet
Missed Maelstrom, missed friends, missed roleplaying with stunning people and a group that is both big and clever. Fneh.
Friday saw the monsoon flood the office and start creeping its way towards the studios. Naturally, as we have loads of electrical equipment, massive safety measures were needed and the lavatories were emptied of paper towels used to soak up the ever spreading puddles across reception and the stairwells. I wish I was joking.
When it seemed that that popular old staple of action movies, the water/electricity combo, might seriously spark up London's skyline and fry us all, we were shepherded out into the rain until the Fire Brigade checked that the building was safe. Turns out we are in more danger from the wet ageing masonry than from the wet ageing wiring. With that comfort we went back in, and the heat started.
In need of ease and time and momentary avoidance, it goes without saying that fate has thrown us together on every single show. He's been off his game and so have I; my poor performance is due to worrying about him and feeling self conscious, and then he made a serious blooper which put me well off my stride and resulted in a minor barking from the boot. Got to consider the driving force; OK, he was wrong, but still... heat and exasperation and an underlying tension that we haven't sorted and I don't know how to sort. He tried to apologise, I just stared at him in full wither mode and said, 'Let's just get to work shall we?' End of show, I apologised, we all joked. I hugged him and heard his heart drumming. He apologised for that too, it was the heat getting to him he said. Silly. We know we are in trouble when we say sorry for the sound of our hearts.
In this situation, everything I do is off kilter, every word I say is badly timed. I am not going down to London until the 9th so we have time to pull ourselves together and get back into our stride. The next time I see him our fab friendship going to be as sweet as it's always been. Somehow I must de-weird this situation, a mission that doesn't exactly play to my strengths.
And that night? Flooding across the country meant I got on a train at 6.35 and back to Manchester in the early hours of the next day via taxi paid for by Virgin Trains. The rain it raineth, my head acheth, my writing work calleth. I have pulled a hamstring badly, my stomach is playing up, ditto my psoriasis, and I cannot put off my eyetest much longer. I have been in better nick.
But it is very very good to be back here withlarians again.
Friday saw the monsoon flood the office and start creeping its way towards the studios. Naturally, as we have loads of electrical equipment, massive safety measures were needed and the lavatories were emptied of paper towels used to soak up the ever spreading puddles across reception and the stairwells. I wish I was joking.
When it seemed that that popular old staple of action movies, the water/electricity combo, might seriously spark up London's skyline and fry us all, we were shepherded out into the rain until the Fire Brigade checked that the building was safe. Turns out we are in more danger from the wet ageing masonry than from the wet ageing wiring. With that comfort we went back in, and the heat started.
In need of ease and time and momentary avoidance, it goes without saying that fate has thrown us together on every single show. He's been off his game and so have I; my poor performance is due to worrying about him and feeling self conscious, and then he made a serious blooper which put me well off my stride and resulted in a minor barking from the boot. Got to consider the driving force; OK, he was wrong, but still... heat and exasperation and an underlying tension that we haven't sorted and I don't know how to sort. He tried to apologise, I just stared at him in full wither mode and said, 'Let's just get to work shall we?' End of show, I apologised, we all joked. I hugged him and heard his heart drumming. He apologised for that too, it was the heat getting to him he said. Silly. We know we are in trouble when we say sorry for the sound of our hearts.
In this situation, everything I do is off kilter, every word I say is badly timed. I am not going down to London until the 9th so we have time to pull ourselves together and get back into our stride. The next time I see him our fab friendship going to be as sweet as it's always been. Somehow I must de-weird this situation, a mission that doesn't exactly play to my strengths.
And that night? Flooding across the country meant I got on a train at 6.35 and back to Manchester in the early hours of the next day via taxi paid for by Virgin Trains. The rain it raineth, my head acheth, my writing work calleth. I have pulled a hamstring badly, my stomach is playing up, ditto my psoriasis, and I cannot put off my eyetest much longer. I have been in better nick.
But it is very very good to be back here with
larians again.
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Well, not quite. But quite am teh winny.
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And to make matters worse...
Managed to replace the butter and sugar though.
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I only packed machine washable kit, and all my pretty dresses are mired to the knees in mud.
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It was very funny to see Flambard and Millen discovering a newfound fashion for Ladies in breeches too.
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Sorry to hear you have not been feeling to good either-both Suz and I have been having horrible sinus pressure lately-made worse by all these weather fronts, so we can sympathise. Its not good being out of sorts like that-it nags away you and drains your energy.
So-hugs from us both :)
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Re transport, from what I have seen, I would trust to one's own steam rather than the trains. They are a world of frustration in themselves and once on, you are committed to stay the choice - at least in a car you can detour or turn back.