Spoke to my agent this morning about this job I interviewed for yesterday. She said she was putting in a call to find out what the situation was and would be getting back to me. Nothing so far 3 hours later and that is a very bad sign.

How long can any one person look at the phone without it ringing? Not that I’m desperate or anything. And the fucking bank wrote to tell me they’re reducing my overdraft. Thanks guys. Wait until someone is down and really needs the money and then whip it away. Fuckers. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to lob a petrol bomb into their head offices. Especially as they like to position themselves as the caring understanding bank that won’t fuck you. Bastard Abbey. The Landlord is after me too. And he’s kind of tricky to avoid as he works in the office underneath my flat.

He’s a tosser too. And frankly a bit dodgy.

On a positive note I went to Covent Garden last night to see Il Trovatore – the one where the wrong baby gets thrown on the fire. Really enjoyed it as ever – loads of stirring tunes and some genuine stand out moments, but if you ask me Act IV does go on a bit – all a bit to ‘woe is me’ laments and not enough shrieking. Still really good though.

I’m so depressed I’m watching the cricket and enjoying it.