After a ridiculously hectic few days, including a large pile of shit being dumped on me by a colleague yesterday morning which involved much weeping and wailing on my part as I desparately tried to get it done before our offices closed at 12 noon and all the admin staff left for 10 days, we are 45 minutes away from leaving for the airport. H is a little anxious, as he always is when he's got a plane to catch, and I'm quite excited although pretty tired.
We went to see Billy Elliot the musical last night, which was stupendously good, but given the day that I'd had I was just ripe for all the emotional stuff to rip my heart out and shred it into little tiny pieces. This was then exacerbated by the drama of trying to get to my seat. When I came in just as the first song was starting, having been held up at the box office by a fuckwitted manager who didn't want me to bring my shopping bag into the theatre but who equally wouldn't let me put it in the cloakroom as she said it was too full, the guy sitting at the end of our row wouldn't let me in, so I was left looking gormless, standing in the aisle while the cast's voices rose in song. Eventually, after trying the other end of the row and realising it was worse, I came back and managed to persuade him, and reached my seat, already on the verge of tears. So when Billy and his (dead) mother sang a duet about always being there for each other and how much they love each other, I became a basket case and sobbed messily but at least quietly for the rest of the act. Oh I am so ready for a holiday.
I look forward to seeing some of you on the 28th. It's a little out of our way given our itinerary, but I'm 90% sure H is up for letting me drag him the extra 2 hours of driving to see you all. In the meantime I hope you all have a great few days, and, if you haven't already, go and congratulate Nico, even if it's hard not to hate her a little.