Skip to main content

Falling Behind.


Much of my time seems to be taken up with the admin around my forthcoming work-in-progress dates and my recently confirmed return to Edinburgh this Summer, with little-to-no time spent on the actual content, which is something I'd like to fix soon.

Tomorrow seems as good a time to start as any, as for once I’ve actually got the whole day free. Okay, there are other things I need to do too - I haven’t sent out press releases for my Leicester Comedy Festival show that takes place in a few weeks, which is leaving it pretty late - but at some point, I need to focus fully on writing, as I want to put something together I’m proud of to rival what I did last year, which had its faults, but was still a leap ahead on from my first show '...and Ephgrave'.

A lot of it is psychology. I told myself a few weeks ago that I wanted to make sure I’d at least broken the back of my work-in-progress set in time for my Leicester show, so even though I won’t be performing any of the new stuff then, I’d know I was on my way. This is very much a self-imposed arbitrary deadline, but I’d still like to meet it to some degree. It’s all about taking the pressure off for later. That’s always my approach to things, though it sometimes means I do too much now, and that ‘now’ rolls on and on and I never relax.

It’s always admin that gets in the way. It’s very tiresome. I long for the day when I don’t have to do everything; if other people were investing in what I do, it would feel less punishing. Social media doesn’t help; it’s easy to scroll through Twitter and Facebook and think everyone’s more well-adjusted, happy and successful and you’ve fallen way behind. Whenever I feel like this, a lyric from the Paul McCartney song Alligator sticks in my mind: “Everybody’s busy doing better than me.”

I know what you mean, Macca. I know what you mean.
Labels:

Popular posts from this blog

Shakerpuppetmaker.

Have Parker from Thunderbirds and Noel Gallagher ever been seen in the same room? The resemblance is uncanny. So much so, I think something’s afoot. If my suspicions are correct, I've stumbled across a secret that will blow the music and puppet industry wide apart. In the mid-60s / mid-90s at least. It doesn’t take long to see the signposts. There’s the similarity between the name of Oasis’ first single, Supersonic, and Supermarianation, Gerry Anderson’s puppetry technique. The Gallagher brothers would often wear Parkas . Live Forever was clearly a reference to Captain Scarlet and Standing on the Shoulder of Giants to the size difference between Noel and his bandmates. The more you think about it, the more brazen it gets. It’s fishier than Area 51, Paul is Dead and JFK's assassination put together. The only glitch to the theory is scale . According to Wikipedia, Anderson’s marionettes were 1’10” and Gallagher is 5’8”. How does he maintain an illusion of avera...
Read more

'...I'm Gonna Look at You 'til My Eyes Go Blind."

Over the past week or two, I’ve been on a bit of a Sheryl Crow kick, largely thanks to rediscovering her cover of one of my most-liked Bob Dylan songs. She has one of my favourite female voices, yet despite this, I only own one CD and that’s just a single (her '97 release ‘Hard to Make a Stand’); on that basis, you can only imagine how much of her back catalogue I’d own if I hated her (it would fall into minus-figures). Dylan, conversely, takes up more of my collection than anyone else, save The Beatles and Paul McCartney’s solo work. He’s one of those artists who, when you get him, you really get him - and once I’d tuned into his style as a student, I'd time and again be blown away by his lyrics; he’ll have more jaw-dropping imagery in one track than other people fit in a whole career. These days, I mostly listen to music in the morning when getting ready, and more often than not, this will consist of a suggested YouTube playlist when I’m in the bath, r...
Read more

Stevenage: A (Tiny) River Runs Through it.

If ever a river was mis-sold, it’s the Roaring Meg in Stevenage. I just walked past it on my way to the retail park that has taken its name. They’re similarly uninspiring. The river is less of a roar and more of a dribble; cystitis sufferers produce greater flow. The retail park is soulless. What was once a thriving enterprise is nearly devoid of atmosphere, save an underlying essence of emptiness and despair. With a Toys R Us. When it was first built I was excited. Back then, the thought of a bowling alley, an ice rink, a Harvester and a Blockbuster Video within a small surface area was enticing. I celebrated many birthdays on site. There was an indoor cricket pitch there for a while where I once had a joint party with a friend. Why someone with an almost pathological fear of sport would agree to such a venture is beyond me, but I did it. Now, there’s very little at the Roaring Meg of note. The river would be a metaphor for the shopping ce...
Read more