"Have a cat"

So!  Back to the grind.  Excellente.

Indeed, the grind.  What sort of life is it where the second thing you do after sorting the first tea of the day is the washing up?  I don't know...

Things are no longer drastic, at least.  I no longer have any desire to pen and hand in a letter of resignation, but my sleeping pattern has become one I'd describe as 'transatlantic', being a perfect 11pm-8am... 5 hours behind GMT.  Yes, I know how irresponsible that it, how unhelpful it is to have completely shifted my sleeping pattern like that, I really can't wait until we get to Sunday and I'll have basically napped for four hours before getting up for Eucharist... When it gets to about 3am it can get a little boring but I'm surprisingly upbeat when I do wake up properly in the afternoon, my usual routine notwithstanding.  

But let's talk about something interesting!  My lack of sleep will stand for ever and eternity unless I bite the bullet and finally ask the doctor for a scrip of knockout pills, which especially after the chat I had recently about anti-depressants... no no, I'm not going on them either, as I still have on my old methamphetamine attitude... which is a brilliant story, allow me to tell it.  And no, I haven't been taking anything illegal.  Not even remotely.

For years and years and years and years I used to take medically prescribed amphetamines to treat my hyperactivity.  I know, looks ridiculous doesn't it: uppers for hyper children.  Somehow it makes a difference.  What most people don't know is that amphetamine is also a powerful appetite suppressant, the effect of which was nothing short of a disaster: I have been underweight for years and am only now, some 5 years after stopping taking them that I'm beginning to eat again.  Anyway, one particular permutation of this dreadful chemical left me dazed and confused, and hearing voices in my head (THAT DIDN'T BELONG TO ME) all day at school... It was absolutely fucking awful.  It wasn't even a heavy dose particularly, but it wasn't right, and oy gevalt was it terrible already.  Long story short I got put on a different set of pills entirely and turns out those were okay!  Big capsules, but still...okay.  I ended up taking myself off them purely upon the advice of an ex-girlfriend and her mother.  I know, what sort of idiot does that make me?  Ignoring the advice of medical professionals in favour of rebelling against my mother?  Completely witless.

I had to take at least one pill twice a day, almost every day for... 11 years?  Seriously.  Yeah, about 11 years.  I hate taking pills, beyond belief.  I'm pretty thankful that Paracetamol is a fast working emetic as far as I'm concerned (well, for me personally of course), because it means I get to fight my way through headaches and hangovers chemically unassisted, a process I rather enjoy.

The weekend was moderately thrilling as well, with a gala performance of Thomas Tallis's greatest work, Spem in Alium, known by a number of rude names to Choral Scholars the country over.  The forty part motet was sung alongside a concert programmed with music for the Men's choir, the Gentlemen of Truro Cathedral, whom I shall still be joining in September.  Russell Pascoe's Missa Brevis was of course the centrepiece that the rest was hung on until Spem, as we're really focusing on commissions this year because the Cathedral and Choir are 125 years old!  The Senior Lay Vicar is only 124, after all (LOL).  Due to my new body clock, getting up in the morning was bad enough, but I was ready to throw the towel in by the time Evensong started, let alone finished, and then there was all the rehearsal to get through... But it was really good!  I really enjoyed having an evening of just Men's voices music with the full team, which is something we lack every day.  The Scholars also performed as a group, with some crowd pleasing classics, The Bare Necessities, a six-part Steal Away, a solid SATB arrangement of Let's Do It that we've flipped so it's Barbershop style with the tune in the centre, and finishing with Blue Moon, and arrangement reminiscent of the 'Gents of Johns', the A Cappella group formed of the Choral Scholars of The Choir of the Chapel of the College of St. John, Cambridge University.  While the skill and technique of such a group, much like 'The King's Men', The King's College equivalent and of course the ubiquitous 'King's Singers'... You know I just don't like it that much.  I'm a Barbershop kinda guy, that super tight four part harmony, and those ridiculous hanger tags... That's the good stuff!

Then of course the second part of the concert was made up entirely of Spem in Alium.  Now this is no small undertaking, with eight choirs of equal voices, no consecutive octaves or fifths in the whole damn thing... Actually a work of genius when you get down to it.  I worked from a 40 part score in A4 because I'm that arse.  Yes, somebody had to do it, but to be perfectly honest I think it worked much better than having a partbook for saying I spent so little looking at it.  I only listened to it once before the first rehearsal and I was pretty much sight-singing at that.  


As ever, my weekend-centric, unemployed existence continues unabated.  I have a new haircut, a new coat, but the same worries.  It's almost time to get back in season down here though, so jobs are being advertised left right and centre, so I'm going to update my CV (SEE MOTHER) and get my best "I'm a great candidate for this job!" face on and sound out the current opportunities available.  I'm even going to see if I can actually make a job appear with my own two hands, quite literally as well.  

The title of this week's post, is of course a shout out to almost every conversation I have with G, where we remedy any problems we have primarily with pictures of Cats from the internet.  I'm definitely going to own a cat, allergies be damned, I shall name it Absolom so at least I'll be happy one day!