So far, I could not be happier.

Three rehearsals in and everyone has turned up exactly when they were meant to. No-one has been late. (4 minutes hardly seems to count.) Two of my new people appear to be as lovely as they could be. Nobody is openly ridiculing me. Everyone is obediently (for the most part) pacing through the blocking I'm suggesting. No-one is defiantly (you know who you are) pronouncing whaddyacall incorrectly. I haven't (I don't think) even shown my pants yet.

And miracle of miracles, last night, A&E Consultant Jacques / Creon turned up clutching a body bag which he purloined from the hospital morgue. It looked not in the slightest like I expected it to. It's large. Much bigger than I expected. It's white. Tough white plastic. It does zip up but in an odd semi-circle around the edges of the rectangular sack. And fantastically it's got a little red plastic pocket on the front with a black DOCUMENTS stamped onto it.

I clambered into it to demonstrate to myself really that it would look less weird full of body. But it does rather raise the question of what exactly we stuff them with. As the plastic is thin enough that the contents will be fairly respectably outlined.

Still, a free body bag as opposed to a £10 one from the manufacturers down south or a sinisterly bid for ebay acquisition is all to the good. Have to think of my non-existent budget after all.

I am reminded of Jim Broadbent in Moulin Rouge screeching quasi-deliriously "Everything's Going So Well" just before everything spiralled out of control.