Working working at the moment. Had groups on Tuesday night and more groups tonight. But then the weather's so miserable that I may as well be cooped up in a studio with a pack of surly teenagers. Good excuse not to go to the gym.

I went cap in hand last week to the committee, humbly requesting that they consider my proposal to direct. Of course it's a hard call for them as we have no other prospects on the horizon. The age old director dilemma. So they graciously said they'd be happy for me to do something in the festival if I was willing. And they seemed amenable to my using the more pricey venue if they'll have us.

And then I went (fake) cap in hand to the general meeting. A rather perkier attendance than usual. I would that this boded well for the new year. But I suspect the fresh blood will quickly fall away once January poverty has turned into nice short month February. Anyway, the assembled company was quite amenable to my directing a festival show.

People helpfully suggested that I get an indication of interest and choose a play based on a potential cast. Oh what a democratic way of doing things. Perhaps I'll learn my lesson but I'm still comfortably settled in the 'choose a play and then root around wildly trying to find a suitable cast' camp.

So in my thin and squidgy windows of opportunity between working, I have been reading reading reading. The innocent heady days of happy opportunity.