It's weird. I thought I was winning today. The hours zoomed by. We had some good meetings. We had some good emails. I discovered some important facts and joined up some loose ends (admittedly to make one longer looser end, but still, the joining was useful). Fruit was eaten. Plans were made.

Personally, I made some more plans (the diary fills). I organised some more work to be done on the house (the bank account empties). In the next couple of weeks, there are plasterers, builders, roofers, kitcheners (the people who make kitchens, not the members of the Kitchener family) and plumbers coming round. And when I use the plural, I mean the singular. I'm just being emphatic.

Things which I've left for ages, bothering me, now seem not to be a trouble.

Hell, I'm even seriously thinking about supporting a car-free day by cycling into the office. Friday. Maybe.

So, the day should have been a rousing success.

I drove to my gig and arrived in plenty of time. I was, however, tired. I was also hungry, having eaten some fruit and some salad today (but not fruit salad), but not having eaten much since the meagre lunch...

...ah, the excuses have begun. Gig excuses - the last refuge of the comedian that died. Ok. So the room was air-conditionedly cold, the audience were 12 in number, I was tired, my brain and mouth were not connected, the guitar was not amplified, I wasn't, in short, feeling funny... oh, and there was someone in the audience that I would very much preferred to see me do well (a booker for an important club).

So, in short, not doing incredibly well didn't please me a bit.

I'll live with it, shall I? Ok.

Then I got food, drove home, chatted to some friends on the way, discovered my drive was blocked by some selfish drive-blocking car drivers, found a massive space on the road my house is on and decided not to care about the roadblock at my actual house, and then got on with the important task of playing Scrabulous (Scrabble on Facebook).

At this point I should now admit that I'm playing a lot of Scrabble. I see notifications left, right and centre, that a load of my facebook chums are playing it too. Scrabble rocks.

At this point I should also admit that I'm feeling smug that I played three different 7 letter moves across three different games. It's largely luck. But it's my luck.

So, I don't know whether I've been successful. The house feels like it's coming together nicely, but then the comedy stuff is flopping, but then my Scrabble skills are coming on nicely.

Time to redefine success... and maybe get some sleep.