A hot train journey home, with a small hangover, delayed by signal problems outside of Doncaster, sitting close to a group of overenthusiastic (read loud) young actors and with two youngsters going up and down the aisle proclaiming, "Who wants to come to Sam and Jessica's Circus?" over and over again (no-one does you tiny idiot. You're four and she's two. We're on a train. It's obviously going to be rubbish and have very few or no animals in it).
I felt like the men on trains who used to tell me to shut up when I was 16 and messing around with my mates, or at least understood their motivation for finding us annoying. Most of it naturally based on envy. I admire their restraint in hindsight.
Eventually I got back to London and once I was away from the concourse of King's Cross, which was packed with comics and actors and techies and props, it almost seemed like the Fringe had never happened.
I was very quickly back to the routine of suspiciously eyeing up anyone different or strange who has a ruck-sack. Ah London, how I missed thee. When you are tired of London you are tired of life, and luckily London will probably arrange your death at this point, so it all works out quite nicely.
I got home OK despite the man rocking back and forth over the holdall on his lap - London had decreed that I could be more tired of it and of living than I currently was.
Home didn't seem as unfamiliar as I suspected and I even popped up to the Sainsbury's Local that features in my routine to stock up on some products. I didn't buy any yoghurts. I don't particularly like them. I don't know if I have made that clear enough yet.
I checked the post,
hopeful that my speeding notice wouldn't be amongst the letters. I had met the comic who had been nabbed the week before me, up in Edinburgh and he was having to go to court. I had been hopeful that all would be well as there are no street lights on that bit of the motorway and I thought this had meant that you couldn't get done. Luckily there is as yet no notice of the crime I committed, and instead I found a very flattering review of my Yoghurt show in
Time Out which can't harm me if I want to do a London run of the show. No plans yet. Hopefully we'll sort out a tour and so on. I think it's been successful enough.
