Journal

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Hotel Internet.

It's not the fact that, at four pounds fifty an hour, this is the most expensive hotel internet I've ever encountered that irritates me.

It's the fact it comes in one hour lumps. And at the end of an hour I'm meant to put my credit card number etc in again. A fine way to make money, I think, and to make sure that your guests don't come back.

(Resolves to find wireless service in central Glasgow.)

Tomorrow I get to see a dress rehearsal of WOLVES. I do not know what to expect, knowing how much this show has grown in the last month or so. Truth to tell, I sort of like not knowing what to expect...

PS. I am worried about Fred the Unlucky Black Cat, back into the vet again, in my absence.