Big Baby

Sunday. Most of the day was spent clearing junk from John M's computer. Spybot found 93 'problems' and fixed them all. But I tried four different anti-popup programs, and none of them had any effect.

Max still wants 30 VHS copies of the film I took of his play, to give to contacts in the local theatrical and political communities, to get them interested in his next play. He'll pay for the videotape and my time spent cleaning the audio and transferring the VHS, and I can't find any more excuses not to do it. But he really hasn't thought it through - 90 minutes grainy footage of people who've never acted before is not a good advert.

Donna S came round with Daisy - her 4 month old baby. I spent far too long lying on the floor playing with Daisy. She probably thought I was another bald chubby baby.

Home again, I'm typing up the events of the last few days. Once again, the clock tells me it's exactly four 'o' clock in the morning. There's birdsong in the dark outside.