Sundays

Carl and I haven't had many Sundays the last six months because since early November Carl has had a succession of long gigs out of town. By May 1, we will have spent 6 Sundays together (he's home on the 24th of April) out of 25. Sundays are Carl's and my thing. We're the cliched couple having coffee over crosswords and sudoko.

I guess that's why Sundays are the hardest for me. I do the crossword alone and if there is a Sunday West Magazine I do that one as well. I wait for 1 p.m. so that I can call Greece to be sure to catch him in his room. He has an early set call so is usually in bed by 11 p.m. That means I get the five minutes before he falls into an exhausted sleep.

He sounds good and the shoot is going well. He says he feels he's doing his best work yet. For me, all this freetime means that I've not only finished the first draft of my first screenplay but have managed a second draft and am now polishing it for a third pass. Creatively, we're booming.

But Sundays are slow and seemingly endless.