I have a very tiring few days ahead of me.
Tomorrow I am off to Gloucester to do Talking Cock, then on Sunday we have to drive to Heathrow to get a plane to Glasgow to do a gig at the Tron theatre. I will be getting up at 5am on Monday morning to catch the flight back to Heathrow and then will have two hours before my trip to Melbourne. Its another piece of organisational genius. Though my first gig in Melbourne isnt until Thursday, one has to take into account that it takes more than a day to travel and around about a week to get over the jet-lag (even without the early morning flight from Scotland). Essentially I am doing three consecutive gigs in three different countries (the first two of which are pretty close, but the last one being as far away as is humanly possible without booking me a gig in outer space).
I imagine my diary entries for the next few days will be largely unreadable gobbledegook. So no change there etc.
Anyway today was largely taking up with packing my suitcase. I was aware that I needed to be sure to have everything I would need for the next six weeks (though rarely taking into account that they do have shops in Melbourne). This is slightly more complicated than usual because I also have to bring everything I need to complete my book (which is due to be finished on the 24th April- Dream on, Ebury Press! Havent even got half way through chapter three yet).
I cant wait to arrive in Melbourne and discover what I have forgotten, nor indeed to look at some of the bizarre items I have deemed that I cant live with and think Why the fuck did I bring this? The suit-case is almost too heavy to lift, so Ill probably have to shed some items at the airport anyway. I have a feeling the plane might not be able to take off if any of the other passengers are inconsiderate enough to bring luggage.
I shouldnt complain. I am going to Australia. This is my job. I am surely the luckiest man in the world. But I have to go to Gloucester first. The dark and light in this world are always in balance.
