Met up with Kenn, at his behalf, for a matinee-screening of ‘Dunkirk’ at the Imperial. Was glad I did; had wanted to try and avoid it, but it turned out okay. He’s not the big talker, but he seemed content to listen to my ramblings, and I had apparently a need to rid myself of some I’ve been keeping to myself…? So good therapy, he was very symphathetic. He’s full of surplus, he reeks of it, lucky sod. The movie was good, too, and I hadn’t been to the Imperial for many years, even. Hasn’t changed a lot, if at all. As with all the theatres, no-one sells you a ticket anymore – you have to make friends with the machine that dispenses the admissions. What will friend-less people do, in our future age? No one will there to serve them personal interaction. It’s a sad state of affairs. Was glad he made the contact, will try and be the one who does it, next time out.
V’s fretting so, about that irregular bleeding downstairs, so to speak. Am thinking – hoping, praying – she’s overly concerned as per her usual, and being dramatic about it because she’d rather pay the emotional cost up front; this way she’s prepared herself for the worst, and so if that should happen, well she’d be equipped. So glad money’s not the issue here, preventing her from going to the private sector when the public won’t suffice – so she’s got a date, 12th of September, where she’ll be checked by dr. amazing, at the Hamlet private hospital. This is, in turn, what I prepared for, in hiding those odd grand I got from the sale of the company.
Heard – finally – from the IRS: I’m through to the second rounds of talk in regards to that job, albeit there’s a test that needs aceing, first. There’s always a test, isn’t there… Ridiculous. At least it’s technical in nature, this time around. Am glad I made it thus far. A liberating sensation, having waited so many days beyond the first interview.