An Irritating Audience

I got to London late for my mamogram, rang and they told me that they had cancelled my clinic appointment anyway, I just seem not to have recieved the letter. I was advised to go for the X-ray anyway but it seems that NICE; a misnomer if ever I heard one, has decided that clinical examination is not the best diagnostic tool. It wasn't really what I needed to hear, having gone wildly wrong getting to town, even with Sat Nav. I'd booked car parking in Butlers Wharf, a real bargain in life, and ended up parking at Euston Station just because the car was beginning to overheat, having been in stationary traffic more than it appreciates.

After being squished into a machine, I had a fabulous time wandering around Fulham/Chelsea before I got fed up with wondering how exactly people do manage to look so rich and became envious of their gloriously stuccoed houses. I headed off to see Marc Quinn, but White Cube is closed on Mondays. I went to get my brows threaded but they were fully booked. It wasn't looking good, would the play be cancelled.It was a great perfomance of a really challenging play, probably great because the cast made it look so effortless. The female role was sketchy but Jeff Goldblum was mesmorising. The only thing I didn't really like was the audience. Call me a snob if you like, but I like a bit of reverence at the threatre, for the fact that there are real life people standing in front of you speaking. Maybe the movie star in front of us made people feel like they were in front of the TV at home, or at the cinema, but you still need to hear him.

Got even more lost leaving London, drove around the Tower of London twice, and really don't know what route Sat Nav decided to bring me home. Next time I'm taking the train.