All this was immediately preceded by a distressing discovery - my laminated copy of my father's obituary, always in my backpack, sustained water damage and now the paper is disintegrating. I almsot burst into tears when I saw it - and immediately had to go into a trust exercise. That was fun, believe me.
On the upside, our group saw an incredible show tonight - A Day in the Death of Joe Egg, by Peter Nichols. The use of language, the acting, everything just seemed to...right. It helped make up for everything.
Now I'm listening to my "Bret music", so dubbed by Libby - it's my Dido CD, which reminds me of the first time we went out dancing, and yes, I realize I'm a sap. What else do you expect?