rambunctious

Dave, Ross and I met Jane and Hannah for a drink at The Swan. It was a typical Saturday night in Brentwood: we sat talking about the end of civilization as we know it. Hannah didn’t think anyone at the table would live to see old age: ‘Something will happen.’ ‘Something’ being some sort of nuclear cataclysm or natural disaster. Well, I agree: that’s precisely why I don’t have a pension. Jane reminisced about her Nan, who’d lived through at least one world war: people nowadays couldn’t cope in similar circumstances, she said: ‘They’d flounder.’ I pointed out that in the event of a nuclear holocaust, floundering is about all you can do. Speaking personally, I have no doubt about my ability to flounder with the best of them.

Ross is shaping up very well, and showed a wisdom beyond his years in not accompanying Jane to Sam’s like she asked. Even Hannah declined, a sign of her new-found maturity that I’m not convinced isn’t just a phase.

I dreamed that our landlady (played by a young Celia Imrie) was going to replace our dishwasher because it was ‘rambunctious’.