It was a beautiful sunny day in Edinburgh as I walked along the tree-lined cobbled streets to the gym (oh yes, planning to go down every day - let's see how long that lasts!) I felt very contented. I am so excited about this year's Fringe and at the moment my hopes have not been dashed and my fears not been realised and I can just enjoy treading these familiar streets. Ticket sales continue to go well, so that is the main worry hopefully evaporating. If the papers all decide to crucify me then it won't matter as long as there are people in the audience and they're enjoying it. I've had a lot of encouraging emails from people who've seen the previews, but it is certainly a show that is dividing people. I think this is probably a good sign.
After the gym I went to pick up some groceries and look round the shops. I had my hair slicked back and was wearing sunglasses. A young lad coming out of Waterstones nudged his friend and said, "Look it's Bono."
I suspect he was taking the piss a bit, but I think Bono comes out of that worse than me.
I went up to Harvey Nicks looking for something to wear on stage. A woman was standing outside, holding something up. I thought she was probably a Big Issue seller, but then she said, "Would you like to buy my debut novel?"
Only in Edinburgh could you witness such a thing. Had I not just bought three thick books (which I know I won't have time to read) I might have had a look at it. My guess is if an author is forced to sell their own work on the streets then it might not be very good. But then again, it's easy for people to get overlooked, despite being talented. If Edinburgh teaches us anything it is how unfair the world is.
Later I went out to take part in a pub quiz with my young twenty-something flatmates, Colin and Fergus (a double act that you should check out if you're up here). We struggled to come up with a name for out team and I initially suggested that we pretend to be brothers as we all have similar coloured hair. But one of them (I still don't know which is which to be honest, even though I shared a flat with them last year too) said maybe I should be their uncle. I look at them and think I am the same age, but of course unbenownst to me, time has taken its toll. So I suggested we call the team "Herring and Sons", secretly hoping that the quiz master would comment, "Blimey you don't look anything like old enough to be father to these two", because of course I am not.
But he didn't say anything. So that's another blow for my ego. To be fair Colin and Fergus look like they might be 15, but even so.
We were ahead after round two and on course for winning a bottle of whiskey, but got sunk by a round on pottery and came in a disappointing third (out of four teams).
But it was a really excellent quiz, just hard enough to stretch the brain, but not impossible.
I had had a fantastic day, but alas as I tried to sleep the Edinburgh paranoia surfaced for the first time and I was unable to sleep with worry. What if everyone hates my show? What if I fade away into the background and my career comes to an end? Maybe I will just give up comedy anyway, seeing that no-one seems to recognise me as the genius I so clearly am - that kind of rubbish.
But it was an isolated couple of hours in an otherwise very positive and enjoyable day. I love you Edinburgh. Even though sometimes you haven't loved me back.
