This isn’t about a new form of very interesting and instantly gratifying sit up technique that I’m trying. But the more a tale of woe on how snag-noddingly quickly an open spot comedian can be crashed back down to earth.
In my head my thoughts are near constantly about Edinburgh, panics, dreams, worries, thoughts. If not Edinburgh then my head is full of stand up thoughts, or general bill paying, clothes washing, that type of thing.
Very seldom does my brain veer anywhere near close to contemplating thinking about what I am actually paid to do on a day to day basis, the temp job which provides my sole income which pays for bills, food and ultimately, Edinburgh itself (my part of the the festival…not the entire city, that would be crazy).
Last night before leaving the temp job of the dullest tedium to go home to live my exciting life of eating a sandwich I got a phone call from a very angry woman who was head of a very angry thing who were very angry at not being paid and very angry because it was me that didn’t do the paying of the thing. It’s so dull I even have trouble describing it.
But an odd feeling. Basically I really had fucked up. Properly and everything. I can’t cleverly argue my way out of something. I didn’t do something I should have done, I have no real reason for not doing it, I just didn’t. I even thought to myself that not doing this will get me into some kind of trouble.
And it did…possible job losing trouble. Normally nothing to be scoffed at, but Edinburgh budgetry stuff is so tight that even a day with out work may screw me .
So slightly panicky.
The other interesting point of this is of being told off. I’m not very good at it, there are few times when I get told off, perhaps, subconsciously I have guided my life into a place where there aren’t many opportunities to be told off.
In a situation like last night my comedic instincts take over and I want to quip and banter and get the better of someone, but a niggling feeling reminded me I’d also quite like to pay the rent.