On Friday, I didn’t get out of my pyjamas. I did brush my teeth and drag a comb through my hair, but sartorially, I left a lot to be desired. Actually, make that un-desired: I’m pretty sure the fiancé must have been having his doubts. I’m unemployed! It’s very stressful! I’m exclaiming out of stress! But on Friday, I decided that I was going to have to find the positive aspects of the position I find myself in. I would not get up.
I did get out of bed and I definitely remember making tea, but you wouldn’t exactly call my status “up”. Not going outside, asking someone else to walk the dog and remaining in checked PJ bottoms and an old Smithwicks sweatshirt is not “up”. It’s sideways at best.
Truth is, I had been so stressed that I’d had a huge brain fart the night before, and not slept at all. 2 hours. I got 2 hours sleep between 5 and 7 before getting up and rushing to the PC to start hammering out ideas for what the hell I was going to do with my life. I literally looked up everything from places to live, to Edinburgh venues, to research for a project I have off the boil (see, even that’s not on). I wrote 1500 words on that, and a blog, and then promo-ed my butt off for the Improv show tonight at the Pigalle. So I wasn’t totally idle. But if no one’s going to pay me for my labours, then the plus-side must be that I don’t have to look smart, or wear shoes, or wash my hair: over-washing only robs it of natural oils anyway. At least that’s what the infomercials say and they’re my friends now. My washed up, B-movie failure, late night friends.
I’ll tell you this, though: no amount of time on my hands could bring me to watch Loose Women or Jeremy Kyle. I’d rather watch the execrable The Hills: at least that has sunshine in it. So don’t send out the men in white coats just yet: until you hear me discussing what Linda Bellingham’s wearing or what the other ones’ surnames are, I’m perfectly fine.
Do come to the Improv tonight though. It’s all I have.
