After a day's waddling around the office like a duck about to lay a golden egg containing thoughts and stress - yes, this similie makes no sense - I got into my car and headed to Londinium. I was due to do a gig. In Latin. Not in Latin, that's just my lickle attempt at a joke.

I had agreed with the promoter that I could arrive at the venue at 8 and I'd established that I could possibly even arrive later, as I wouldn't be going on first. So, there shouldn't have been much stress for the car journey. A windscreen full of people's tail lights told me that I'd be waiting quite some time before I arrived, but I had my CD for company. On the CD were 7 tracks, all of which I'd recorded with my equipment and some of my instruments. A couple of the tracks largely featured my sometime-co-writer, with me on the bass in one case, and responsible for the lyrics in the other. The remainder of the tracks had me on vocals, piano, guitar... indeed, whatever else I chose to add to the track.

As usual, I was unimpressed by my own contribution to the recordings. After a while I turned off the CD and drove in silence. Then I put the radio on a bit... in short, I was bored of my own company. I'm getting a bit repetitive these days. The same thoughts over and over again, like a 7 track CD stuck on repeat, where nothing on there seems quite what I should have called a complete job.

Anyway, I got to London, and decided, stuck in traffic, with Radio 2 playing some Eric Coates music, to get changed in the car. This involved taking my shoes and trousers off and replacing them with trainers and jeans. I felt really weird taking off my trousers in traffic. I'd say "try it", but don't. It's weird. I also felt weird getting my jeans on in traffic.

Luckily, my body has dropped in size, so there was wriggle room in the clothes and I was probably more supple for squeezing around the steering wheel. It's all very glamorous in Showbiz. I could be the next Russell Brand. In point of fact, I couldn't.

Anyway, I hopped on the tube, with guitar and guitar amp in tow, and then popped out at the other end. My forgetfulness on leaving the office at top speed, meant I didn't have a printout of my destination with me. However, I had my blackberry for accessing the email with the address in it, and I had my mobile phone with Google Maps for looking the address up in easy to follow format. I also had a definite case of being a fucking nerd to handle. Russell Brand would probably just have hailed a taxi in this situation.

I also had a text from the promoter saying something about the lack of audience. I thought I'd go to the venue to find out what was going on.

I arrived at the venue, cursing the Subway en route for being closed. I discovered a pulled gig. "Have you come far?" the promoter asked feeling guilty. I answered that I'd not and that I'd largely come on expenses and so he wasn't to worry. I then turned tail and left, finding the Subway to be open after all.

Another night on the town. Second night this week that I was due to go to London. Just got to do Wednesday and Thursday. Then I won't be going to London again this week... oh no... Edinburgh - city of love - city of illusions - city of joy...

I feel like I've got a lot of travelling to do at the moment.