Friday night drinks? A big beer.
Where I'll be wearing my new: Skirt from a swap-a-top at Sophie's house. I wasn't invited, I didn't bring anything, I didn't know it was on, and still came away with a skirt and three tops. Amazing.
And this weekend I'm planning on: Putting my feet up and consuming that big beer.
But first I'll need to refuel at my favourite cafe: The Lido in Wellington, a cheeky latte or three and I'm away.
Saturday evening, if my dreams came true there would be a gig by: Gogol Bordello - gypsy punk rock 'n' roll. Please sir, I want some more.
But if there's nothing else doing I'll probably just: Be working, or dissolving in a puddle of stress about the next show I'm in. Both involve too much coffee and hiding.
On my stereo/headphones right now is: Too much Tom Waits.
The books I can't put down are: Game of Thrones.
The TV show I take the phone off the hook for: Game of Thrones.
The movie I've been dying to see: Harry Potter 7, Part 2. I don't understand how I missed it. How is it even possible? Am I actually the only person on the planet who hasn't seen it?
A non-cooking Monday night means takeaways from: Mediterranean Food Warehouse pizza 2-4-1 Mondays.
Or a splash-out Wednesday night restaurant would be: Unfortunately, I've done theatre all year and it's a recession, so there are no splash-outs - just a nice warm can of baked beans and some good old-fashioned furniture burning.
Anya Tate-Manning is performing in 1940s screwball comedy Glorious, at the Basement Theatre until Saturday.