I was pooped. A busy week with too much in it, followed by an exhausting but enjoyable Friday night was too much for me. I couldn't wake up until after lunchtime. In fact, some people were probably having their afternoon tea when I woke.

I gave up on the very thought of doing any DIY and sat around chasing up emails and generally doing stuff. I got the results from the speed dating event last Wednesday. I contemplated my navel some.

Then I breezed out to my gig in Hove. I had been booked for this last minute (ish) but was looking forward to it. The compere is someone I like, and the closing act is always a pleasure to watch.

Owing to a lack of planning and timing on my part, I was very low on fuel en route and so had to drive about 20 miles out of my way to be guaranteed to get to a service station before the car stopped having fuel enough to get me to the next one. I was worried about arriving at the gig late and gave the promoter a quick call to assure him I was on my way and would be there on the cusp of the designated arrival time.

As it was, the gig didn't start until about 90 minutes after I arrived, giving me chance to chill out and share time with the compere and other acts. I hit the stage at 10.30. It was a tough gig. The audience didn't really know who they were or feel comfortable laughing in the space. It can be like that sometimes. You have to kind of acknowledge that and give them permission to laugh. Sometimes you can see people smiling and trying to laugh, but waiting for someone else to go - like a massive mexican stand-off - a room full of people straining, hoping someone will crack.

It wasn't my best performance or best reaction, but I enjoyed it. I enjoyed watching the rest of the night too. It was a lesson in how a difficult room can and cannot be tackled.