I'm terrified. Three days till our first night and I'm still struggling with my lines. Plus the director keeps telling me not to put my hands in my pockets on stage. Where else can I put them? Why did I listen to flattery and read for the part of Maxim de Winter? Vanity is the answer. God I've even let my hair grow at directorial insistence. A small crowd of staff from my old office are coming to the first night. And people from the rugby club. Bloody hell this could be truly humiliating. Am I looking forward to it? Of course I bloody am. Vain old ham.
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