The weekend

I don’t know about you but I’ve had a frustrating weekend.   I’ve been pot-less, so couldn’t follow up on either a couple of invitations I’ve had — one to an annual do that I’ve always fancied going to, but not had the opportunity to, the other coffee with friends, which seems to have been cancelled, anyway — and, on top of that, I’ve managed to drop my mobile.

Down the toilet.

As those of you who know me will realise, I have this bad habit of relying on my mobile, for quite a lot!

Including getting incoming Phone Enquiries!   Of which I’ve just had my very first, about the Halloween gig, this coming Tuesday, at the Harold!

Wish me luck for those!

Which, as I’ve told the young woman concerned, is going to be identical to the one two days later, at the Hutton, means I’m going to have to do some brief revision, to make sure that’s not strictly accurate …

*Cackles evilly, strokes pussy.*

Obviously, I’m talking about a cat, there, for those of us reading in American English.

Which more than makes up for the phone call I wasn’t getting, from Allison, my partner.   Annoyingly, from where I was sitting, I had a txt from her, this morning, saying she’d not be able to make it over.   Frustrating as there’s all sorts of stuff we haven’t done for a while, after she got hit by a truck.

Normally, I would’ve have minded, but, as this has been the first weekend I’ve had off, for some time, I wouldn’t have minded spending some of it with her.   It’s frustrating, and does make me at least wonder if I shouldn’t start keeping my eyes open.

Oh, she’s had a hard life, and, if things were going a little better, it wouldn’t be an issue, but …

Oh, well.

I’d best get back to doing some editing.

Given it’s the Harold’s first anniversary, and the new beginning for the Hutton.