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Wednesday, March 24

Well Of Course

It's not hard to predict. If you burn the candle at both ends, you end up with a fat stubby splotch of a candle. It was quite a challenge to do last night's gig and I'm paying for it today with the following symptoms:
  • Tiredness
  • Stomach grumpiness
  • Irritability
  • Occasional vaguenesses
All of this is to be expected from a man in my condition - i.e. Stupid.

I refuse to learn my lesson, though. If I give up on agreeing to do the plainly ludicrous, then where will I be? My sense of fun is one of my more useful attributes; it's what makes me funny, and it's what keeps me motivated in the myriad things I like to do. If it's not fun, then you have to find the fun in it.

Now I sound like Mary Sodding Poppins.

Tonight is going to be lower octane (in both fuel and other senses) than last night, where there was a nearly 4 hour drive to the gig and a 2 and a half hour drive home. Tonight is a night of being in and cooking.

Don't get me wrong. Last night was a load of fun. I enjoyed the gig and, although I had to work for the laughs I got from the audience, it was a very satisfying situation. I even got some "me time", which was, in practical terms, a chance to listen to three radio series. I listened to two series of Truly, Madly, Bletchley and one series (the fourth) of That Mitchell and Webb sound. In truth, I found the former to be mystifying. I realise now that some of the reason for this was that it was more of a show "of its time", rather than just one of the classic examples of Radio 4's boring middle ground outpourings.

Perhaps I should have listened to something which made me giggle like a giddy schoolgirl. Or perhaps I should save that for tomorrow night. (I'll explain) Maybe last night worked because the only peak I had of giddiness and effort came when I was on the stage. With nearly 7 hours of driving to do last night, perhaps it makes sense that I kept myself on a fairly even keel in terms of energy levels and mood. It's the peaks and troughs that can hurt - the troughs hurt, the peaks cause them.

Sitting in a car that someone had been smoking in was a definite drain on my own resources and the fug of the car made the red-eye journeying seem all the more difficult. I curse the very ground that its previous driver walks on. May he find himself forced to sit in a seat imbued with the smell of farts, sick and chemicals.

As for tomorrow night, I'm doing a double-up. I've not doubled up for a while, so it should be both fun and stressful. I'm opening a gig in Northampton and closing one in (aaaah) Bicester. If you need me, I'll be on the M40.

Ta ta.

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