I'm feeling pathetically nostalgic for my last year's Festival show, little Tiny Dynamite. Fuelled, of course, by Mariapia's husband whom I met for the first time at the weekend who idiotically said he'd really enjoyed it when he came to see it. And this neatly reminded me of how charming it had been.

So I've been mournfully listening to the soundtrack over and over on my ipod ever since. I even found myself listening all the way through one of the filler tracks: Night Falls by the Pet Shop Boys from their Battleship Potemkin soundtrack, chosen carefully for the rain and squeaking ship sound effects which may have sounded a little like a movie soundtrack to the uninitiated.

Helpfully designed to make me pull myself together however, this morning's inbox holds my list of Jazz Festival duties and the long-awaited list of cuts to Twelfth Night. So not only will my evenings shortly be occupied with jazzy duties but I can resume my learning duties on my bus journeys and cease this pointless self-indulgent nostalgia. Much healthier!