Day 165 - Jesus Fail

Oh, I loved my work today. It was just so much fun. More fun than I expected. More fun, even, than I'd hoped. I didn't start till 1. I was less productive than I intended this morning - I failed to get up and swim, missing my date with Ruth (I'm missing her). I had left my phone at The Hub. Had anyone been at work at 6.01am, they'd have had a wake-up call. As it was, I woke up at 5.50 (or about 20 mins before, but that's when I looked at my watch). All proud, I went back to bed until 6... and slept until 7. Arse. But I didn't beat myself up. I didn't swim, but I had a shower here (very rare) and did some work - still juicy concatenation business.

'Concatenation'

Then off to Canary Wharf (visually lovely - we saw great reflections and sixties decorative designs on the water). I wore smart. I think I was almost planning to be bankered. But no. Forum theatre and corporate roleplay with some really lovely people and a massively up-for-it group. Then 'real-play' - which is a better concept than it is a term. People tell us real situations they're about to have to deal with and they try it out. Now, I could go on about how I hate corporate work (esp. in banks) and how it's not 'real acting', but I don't really believe any of that most of the time. Corporates are made of people and I do like people (except when I'm a grumpy-faced old arse, and then it's fundamentally me that I don't like - I pretend that other people are involved). I like people and I like playing. And I like moments of realisation and change. 


It made me think of Viv Goodings, that job. He said once that when he gets to London after a long time away, to tune back in he goes to Oxford Street (or somewhere equally hectic) and just takes in the bash and bump and jostle of it until he can really love all those people and all that energy... then he goes about his day. That's stayed with me. It pleases me. It was no work to like these people I was doing training with. None at all. They were already lovely. 

Another outstanding Jesus

There was a very good Jesus in Master & Margarita. He saw everyone as good. No bad people, just good ones who were angry or sad or confused or in pain. And he was terribly skinny and folded over, and Spanish. I liked him. In the play, he said that Matthew had been making up stories in his notes - that he'd asked him to destroy the nonsense he'd written and just write what really happened, but he hadn't. Oh, I did like skinny Spanish Jesus. 


Oh, and I also failed by drinking tea and eating soft cookies supplied by the bankers. I promised to be honest. And I had liver and vegetables at 10pm. Fail! No biggie.


After work, I enjoyed spending some time with Sarah Lonton. The event we ended up going to was not to my liking, but it was nice to hang out with her. It wasn't planned, and I missed a phone call I'd promised. I must do that tomorrow. Oh dear. My eyes are roving all around. I must wrap up. A lovely, playful, useful day. Thank you.