What I am supposed to be doing tonight: having dinner in a swanky Notting Hill eaterie with the lovely cello, the lovely Pashmina, the lovely Mr BC, some other lovely Green Wing writers and a multi-multi-multi-multi-millionaire* Hollywood writer-producer, who might also be lovely, but I don't know that, and neither am I going to know at this rate.
What I am actually doing tonight: sitting at my desk, editing a catalogue of IT companies.
It doesn't help that I am doing this by means of an online editing system that I only learned how to use this morning:
INT. PATROCLUS'S OFFICE - DAY
ME (on phone to helpdesk man in Holland): I can't make it make a bullet point.
HELPDESK MAN: Yes. Have you tried clicking the 'bullet point' button?
ME: I can't see a bullet point button. It's all in such a tiny window.
HELPDESK MAN: Yes. Have you tried clicking the 'maximise window' button?
ME: Oh look, a bullet point button!
And I was planning on gleaning an entire year's worth of insider Hollywood gossip from this evening's bash as well. Oh well. Instead, stand by for a series of tutorials on bolding and indenting text. Don't say I don't bring you all the best content.
ALSO: All this stuff about how Facebook is killing blogging is making me want to cry, and then punch Facebook REALLY HARD.