Let 'em In.

I nearly didn’t do my show today, because the door to my venue has a coded lock which had fallen shut and no-one knew the combination.

Various staff-members tried to force the door open, firstly with a credit card, before trying to wiggle the catch free with a blunt knife, closely followed by a sharp one. This was the tensest moment of all, as one false move and someone would end up in A&E with a stab wound; while I wanted the show to go ahead, I didn’t want it to be at the expense of somebody’s life. Just as we were about to give in, a guy (who for some undisclosed reason was covered in face paint) ran up to the door and punched in three numbers and we were in; perhaps he was some kind of a low-level superhero, which would explain the heavy make-up.

High security.

The show itself wasn’t a favourite, as I couldn’t find my rhythm. This was mainly due to tiredness. It's frustrating though, as I hate doing a bad job, but then some days at the Fringe are going to be like this; it’s inevitable. You have to chalk it down to experience.

Two hours later, I was at Edinburgh Waverley Station, waving my wife off as she left Scotland for home. I won’t lie: it was painful. Having her here was a blessed relief from the pressure and the stress. While I'm enjoying my first solo EdFringe run, there’s no denying it’s a roller-coaster experience. It’s an endurance feat, both physically and psychologically, which has started to get tough; at least tomorrow I have a day off, which should leave me fighting fit for my next show on Tuesday. There are only thirteen shows left, which I refuse to see as an omen. I’m going to make the most of them, damn it.