mostly david ephgrave

I’m not been feeling right for the last few days, which is probably just my body responding to the stress of my dad going into hospital; either that, or it could be thanks to when I managed to smack my head very hard on an overhead lamp after packing his stuff away in a cupboard on his ward after he went down to surgery. It was one of those classic moments when you stand up confidently as if there’s nothing above you, to find that something most definitely is. Having it happen when it did felt like the metaphorical icing on a very shit cake; ever since, I’ve felt dazed and out-of-sorts, though I suspect hitting my head was less the cause and more the final straw of a crap day. Whatever it was, it’s probably best I spend less time writing up my bonce-thumping antics now and more time going to bed, so I’ll recover from it.

Spinny, spin, spin, spin, went the colour wheel on the screen of my MacBook Pro. Spinny, spin, spin, spin. Would it ever stop? The answer to this question, unfortunately, was "no". After watching a myriad of shades rotate for a good - or bad - twenty minutes, I started to panic.  The time had come to put my money where my mouth was (not literally; unhygienic); to call out the big boys (again, not literally; homoerotic); to plump for that last resort taken by so many before me - and switch it off and on again.  From this point, things went from bad to worse. After an hour's-worth of furtive Googling on various internet-enabled devices, the horrible truth slowly began to dawn: a large chunk of the work stored on my computer could irretrievable forever .  (I'm being over-dramatic to keep you interested.) The most important file I might have lost is mine and Glyn's stand-up show. The show that we're currently hawking around. A good couple-of-year...