No, this isn't some bitter-sweet post about how all my troubles seemed so far away, but in the cold light of today, I realise that they're insurmountable, and how I wish I could be back to the day before it happened and enjoy the feeling of it not yet having-gone wrong. In fact, if only Paul McCartney had written his song using the above language, maybe the world of popular music would have been different. Maybe the Beatles would still all be together, and alive. Who knows? Tomorrow never knows apparently, but then your mother should know, but where would she have found it out? There's a place. But what place is it? Under the sea? No, that's a song from The Little Mermaid. Okay, then, in the Octopus's garden. Fine, that's under the sea, but how do you get to the garden of an Octopus? Do they even have gardens? What tool could we use to find out? A yellow Submarine? Now you're just being ridiculous. Let's get back to the point in question: a day in the life, which in this case is yesterday and in my life.

Yesterday I listened to no Beatles albums. This means I have no excuse for the above paragraph. However, I did wake up at ridiculous-o'clock-for-a-sunday-morning. Also known at 7.30am. I walked to the railway station, listening to The Carnival of Animals by Camille Saint-saens, and then took a train to London, listening to a Rodrigo Guitar Concerto. Very Sunday morning - more so than the early wake up.

In London I went to a length post-christmas meeting in the voluntary sector, which basically meant a lot of people having their say (I guess I was one of them) and a combination of back-slapping, chest-beating and other bashing of sorts, as the full extent of the successes, failures and points for improvement were discussed in detail. The speed of the day increased as it progressed as people realised that time wasn't on our side and that we couldn't really expect to talk in such ludicrous detail and still meet our intended end time. So, the yattering stopped and we wrapped it up. Overall, I think the event went very well this year and people got together for the right reasons to do some excellent work in a worthy cause. People, of course, in the course of the week, developed some genuine problems and some pet problems, and these needed to be exorcised (or, in the case of the pet problems, exercised, because you should always exercise your pets). I guess sparing two thirds of a day for everyone to get their chests clear is worthwhile. We provide TB screening as part of the event, so chest-clearing is an ongoing priority.

After the meeting, I trotted back across London to Notting Hill where I went to meet two of the cast members of tonight's performance. I'm providing technical assistance at a show in Camden this evening. This will entail me running sound and light. The cast were keen to ensure that I understood their requirements, so I went to see them. What transpired was an entertaining session where two performers did their material for me and amused me, while I asked pertinent questions. It's always nice to meet new people, and it's always nice to be involved with comedy, even from the sidelines.

Sidelines aside (is that even possible?) I'm putting myself back into comedy. I'm going to do it a little sooner than planned. I think I have to be more positive about everything, and that means running myself at a higher pace. The result of running at a higher pace is that I should do more, burn more energy, and be generally more positive about things. There's nothing like a busy diary to keep you from getting bored, or slowing down. So I'm filling my diary. Not full. Just not as empty as perhaps it would have looked. I must be careful of losing momentum on the house, but I think the next couple of months will involve more waiting around for workmen than it will involve more running round on my part. So, I can afford a few nights for comedy.

As a result of this, I have been pursuing people for gigs and a few gigs have entered my diary, which is nice.

Last night, back at home around 9pm, I sat with my laptop for a couple of hours sorting out gigs and writing an article for Micro Mart. I only really live in one room, the one with the heater, and the bed. The laptop, though nowhere near working properly, can be made (after much wangling) to show its picture with the screen at a vaguely usable angle, and so I was able to prop myself up in bed, write my Micro Mart article, listen to the Lee Mack show on Radio 2's listen again (though I barely listened, so hard was I concentrating), email friends and generally be me.

Being single and living alone isn't so bad. It's not as I would have planned it, but it could be the making of this year. Assuming I don't piss about with any more live cables!