Well, it's another day, isn't it? Seconds passing into minutes, minutes passing into hours....gosh, isn't that the lyrics to one of those chesnuts my late mum used to play on her stereo in the kitchen? 
The Ray Coniff Singers or some such or other...
Anyhow, have been slugging my way through, trying to give an ear (and eye) to all 12 parts of the Doctor Who concert in Cardiff. Brilliant! What a wonderful idea--and for a really worthy cause, as well--or so I've been told, anyhow. Murry Gold's a genius. Guess I'll have to save my nickels and dimes (need the quarters for the laundromat and bus fare--when the busses are actually running, that is) and get the soundtrack album when it's available here in the states---really lovely stuff. Pure genius.
So, here I sit, with my freshly washed hair. I actually have to have my behind in the seat in 20 min. so I must dash off now--get Flame's snoot out of my hair--she loves freshly washed hair! The wee little thing can't seem to get enough of newly shampooed hair, no clue why. Maybe it's because she can't see well? He nose just loves perfumey things. Can't sit here with wet hair without a nose and paw rummaging through it. Bit painful, sometimes, when she forgets I don't have fur to protect me from her claws.
Well, off to another day of the same old boring scripts being read over an d over and over and over, and mean nasty people cursing my very existance--ah well, I did say I wanted this job, didn't I, he-he?
