Just sticking my head above the pile of books that surround me to say that if I've been a bit quiet on here it may have something to do with the fact that I have what seems like a million deadlines to navigate. Along with stuff like, I don't know, working the BAFTAs (a metre or two from Brad Pitt, let it be noted. I, predictably, got more excited about the metre from Dominic Cooper bit), doing ten hours worth of classes, three shifts at New Theatre, a meeting about the Youth Theatre Project I'm working on (I have to have a new version of the script ready for next Tuesday), finishing the first draft of my adaptation of Orpheus and Eurydice and making a Secret Valentine card I also have to hand in what is becoming the scrapbook of my ideas for my Final Project next Monday. Final Project. That's flippin' scary.
After hand in on Monday, along with a couple of The Writers, I'm retreating to Surfer Girl's flat in Charlton for a writing lock-in (where I hope to finish the Youth Theatre thing, and maybe even get started on the essay I have to write for dramaturgy exploring August: Osage County in relation to the notion of the American Play). I've also got a meeting about the European New Writing Festival of Rehearsed Readings that I'm co-pitching, another Youth Theatre Meeting, the first reading of After Doroteia (the script I co-dramaturged before Christmas which is having a reading at the Oval House in March), my feedback session for the Final Project Scrapbook, more shifts at New Theatre and - should I think I have time to breathe - an interview which might help me get some tutoring work.
I fly to Berlin on the Sunday and, hopefully, I'll be able to breathe at that point.