Thanks to it being a leap year, I can still technically stick to my sort of aim for this year and write something on here at least once a month.
I am now off the mark for gigs this year, achieving the lofty heights of three this month – which is triple figures in Roman numerals.
I did have more in the diary, but there is always a possibility that they will be cancelled. The gigs all went well and people mostly laughed when they were meant to.
The most recent gig was in Crouch End, where I feel like I have some unfinished business. It is a legendary comedy club where I always want to do well. In the early years, it would often be that a gig didn’t go well the more I wanted it to. When I started to relax and enjoy the time on stage, things started going much better whenever I was there. I was eventually booked for a paid weekend spot, only to die on my arse and was banished back to the new act night. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more annoyed about having a bad gig than I did the next day when I even kicked a wall in frustration. Ten years on, that death still stings.
Continuing the trend of places looking like an alternative universe when I go back, the surrounding area now looks much different to how I remember it. I hadn’t been there in more than four years, pre-Covid. That set didn’t go particularly well, as I was trying to cram too much into five minutes. This time, I kept things looser and had a great time. Thankfully, the annoying heckling lady was ejected after she kept interrupting the first two acts after an emergency interval. I am looking forward to going back again in the next few months. Hopefully, they will have finally persuaded the heckling lady to leave the venue.
In blood pressure news, things were looking much better. That is until I had a long-awaited visit to the doctor last week. I had to register with a surgery 100 miles away, back home, after getting an appointment in London was proving impossible. It seems as though a trip to the doctor has made things far worse and my BP is high again, despite sticking to my new diet and exercise routine. I can’t even blame Mini Cheddars this time. The moral of the story is don’t go to the doctor and everything will be fine.