Absences

Thursday, September 20th., Cadogan Square, London.

Dorothy and I went to see my play, "The Return Journey", at the St. James's. Full house. An ordeal. The play seemed to me to be very harrowing. Now that it is in performance I feel disconnected from it, which is rather strange - why didn't I think it was harrowing when I was writing the blessed thing? I suppose what this means is that the author only contributes so much, and so much more is brought to the production by the director and the actors; so whose play is it eventually? Cynically I think it will be mine if it is unsuccessful, which I suspect will be the case!

The upper circle and the dress circle liked it better than the stalls, or showed their liking more; probably they are simply less polite. We talked to Gerald duMaurier afterwards in his dressing room and didn't get to bed until 12.30. Exhausted. Goodish might though.

I was thinking today about absent-mindedness. It has only struck me as I have gottten older just how apposite this descriptive phrase is. For example two days ago I was out walking and took a spectacle case with me in my bag should I need to put my reading glasses away. Yesterday, I was wanting to put my glasses in their case but couldn't find it. Searched around but no sign. Then I thought about my bag, and there, sure enough was the case which I put my glasses in. Later in the day I needed my glasses but couldn't find them anywhere. Where could they be? Searched about again, getting increasingly frustrated. Surely I couldn't have put the case back in my bag - yes indeed. I told myself off and swore always to put the case (and the glasses) in their designated home. This morning, walking through the house what should I chance upon lying on a side table but my glasses case! How is it possible that I should have become so absent minded? The thing is that, so far as I recall, there was nothing particular distracting me - I was simply and unaccountably absent. This sort of thing seems to be happening to me more and more frequently.