Just two weeks back from holiday (and admittedly I have been working pretty much flat out since then) and I already need another one. I am a physical wreck and have loaded on weight due to lack of exercise and stuffing my face with chocolate to keep me going. It's like Edinburgh, except I actually have to fill my days with work and don't walk up and down a big hill twice a day. Still another nine AIOTMs to write. I might well be the size of a horse by December. Hopefully I will find a way to get back to the gym in my stupidly busy routine, but I am not quite sure how. And with a weekend disrupted by more travel: Brighton tomorrow and Leicester on Saturday - I now remember I only took the Leicester gig because my Manchester one was originally on Sunday. But now I have to travel to the Midlands and back for no reason. Doh! Just what I need with absolutely none of my sketch show written.
At least I got half an hour of cycling in today as I had to head up to Ladbroke Grove for my day of script consulting on Russell Howard's new TV show. I am not sure how much use I was today. My brain felt like it had been sucked out of my head, had an autopsy performed on it by an incompetent alien medical student" and then splashed back into my cranium the wrong way round. But my mouth opened and shut and stuff came out of it and the others seemed satisfied that I had done enough. There were no Haribos today though and I wonder if the production crew have been reading my blog or listening to AIOTM in which I have been implying that I am only doing the job for the free sweets and the cans of coke that I can steal from the fridge. Or maybe the Haribo was just a first week thing to make us all think this job was going to be like a fairy wonderland of fun. And now we're down to the hard graft.
By 6.30 pm I was knackered and hungry (having not eaten any lunch in anticipation of filling up on jelly sweets) and I was allowed to go home, whilst Russell and the other incredibly hard working writers (we had carried on right through the afternoon with no real break) pressed on into the night. They are an enthusiastic and keen little team and unlike some writers I could mention (me) not just freewheeling down the hill and thinking of the money. Hopefully all this hard work will translate and be apparent on screen -Russell Howard's Good News starts on BBC3 next week. Look out for my name at the end. I did all the hard work.
I don't remember much about the cycle home and think I might have actually slept through part of it, but I tried to wake myself up and reward myself for this never ending work pattern by having an extra hot Nando's. Yes, food is the way to make myself feel better.
I like eating in Nando's on my own as it allows me to really have no self-consciousness about how disgusting my eating habits are. I can eat like some kind of hybrid of a hyena and a medieval king and get every single scrap of chicken and gristle off the bones. I was sitting right in the window though and worried that people might congregate outside to watch the freakish moustachioed feral man, "Look, he has no fear that he might be actually crunching up the bone. Don't worry his animal gut can digest the charred fragments."
"Don't look him in the eye, if he sees you watching him as he eats he will defend himself and his paltry feast."
Ah, I feel an AIOTM sketch coming on.
