May the Fourth

Things That Made Me Cry Real Tears Yesterday:

1. Getting on the train to go to Luton.

2. Getting off the train at Luton.

Things That Made Yesterday Unexpectedly Better:

1. A cake sale in aid of a nearby hospice. I am, as you must be aware, all about the charity, and so was very, very generous. In exchange for cake.

2. An offer of a regular paid gig.

The second two things did happen in Luton, though, so my elation was still somewhat muted.

I am currently sitting in a grubby little Internet café near the Arndale Centre, listening to terrible local radio and surrounded by people who make my inner snob enter into a heady and frenzied delirium. It's Friday, and the weekend looms large. Not just any weekend, but a Bank Holiday Weekend. The keyboard is sticking, forcing me to regularly punch the backspace button with ill-contained fury, and the chair has clearly been constructed by a blind man with a deep loathing of people and their backs.

This weekend some of my friends are going surfing in Devon. I was supposed to be joining them in their extravaganza of sand and gin, but I had to pull out last week, because I was offered a gig on Sunday and would have been foolish to turn it down. I am actually very excited about singing on Sunday. We had a rehearsal on Wednesday which was ace, as the songs we're doing include some that I have always, always wanted to sing. We're playing for about half an hour in this burlesque night at Madame Jojo's in Soho. If you are around there on Sunday evening and fancy coming down to watch some cabaret and hear me sing, then please do. Here's the link.

I didn't cry this morning. Instead I sang to myself. Quietly, and without moving my lips (or so I imagined). I hurried through the shopping centre, swerving to avoid the teenage mums and their e number-crazed spawn. Past Greggs, past Wilkinson and the Pound Shop and the bakers in whose window is a sign proudly announcing the fact that they have been awarded three out of five "hygiene stars". (I'm dubious as to what this means. "We wash our hands after three out of every five toilet visits!" Or maybe "We only spit in forty percent of your food!"*)

Through the town centre I walk, glancing up at the town clock to assure myself that I am only fifteen minutes late, towards the the big red-brick building in which I will sit and daydream until I burst out at five-thrity. I consider taking out my phone to call my sister before work, but she is an hour ahead in Paris and will already be teaching.

This morning, feeling dejected, I shuffled in and sighed myself down at my desk. I stared at the wall gloomily. Then someone walked in and sat down near me. She turned around.

"Hey, Léonie!" she said. "May the fourth be with you!"

As I got my phone out to text that particular witticism to all my friends, I speculated that perhaps today wouldn't be so bad. Much cheered, and looking around for left-over cake, I began my day.

May the Fourth be with you all.

*Apologies for my bad maths. I'm better at words and colouring in.