This house is 'coming like a ghost house. I got back and everyone seems to be out, but Andy and James' rooms are both wide open. I went to Choral Society for the first rehearsal this evening. It was okay, but oddly like I was there for the first time, whihc was not the most fun rehearsal I ever went to. It took the intervention of Wendy Krzanowski to persuade me to come back next week. This is because I'm mental, and I've done a dubious internet test to prove it. I'm not on the committee anymore and I've also switched sections - back to the bass for me. Also, Paul (not our Paul, conductor Paul) decided to scramble* us despite it being the first rehearsal. We're performing populist (need to update that) stuff that only philistines like myself haven't sung a trillion times before, apparently.

I've just been on the phone to Dad re. finances. It was quite helpful. I'll live, somehow. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of my life.