is walking back from the theatre to the apartment after a not-so-good Sunday start
~ laundry left overnight in the dryer still not dry; the broken boot for Hitler's QC with its faulty zipper (that I'd tried to fix & set overnight with industrial-strength glue & a makeshift pull) coming clean away in my hand again; an emergency phonecall to my supervisor to find out what fastenings I could legitimately affix onto the boot ahead of the matinee ~& finding BC walking towards me at the corner of Brook & Broad. A cup of tea apiece & conversation (the Twelfth Night, naturally) & the day re-sets itself again. Better.
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