My mood's not particularly bright at the moment, which is not surprising considering what's been happening in my life recently.
I'm feeling pretty defeated; there's so much to do and I don't want to do any of it. This isn't helped by the underlying sense of failure that goes with losing my dad, despite everything we did to try and keep him safe. I know there was no happy ending in store, though he might have still been here if we'd managed to get him to eat and drink or get out of bed; I know this was his responsibility too, but it's hard to keep sight of that when I was so instrumental in his care.
On top of this, I'm finding it hard to get my head around Edinburgh. The financial situation's tough, though the crowdfunding's proving fruitful - as we speak, £1505 has been raised - but there's still far to go (as with Thursday's child). And the cost is just a fraction of the bigger picture when a show has to be written, rehearsed and run-in, while also getting my head around the usual logistics. This year, I have the added challenge of getting my dog to Scotland too. When I saw my PR yesterday, he assured me taking him on the train won't be a problem - he's a dog-owner too, so does the same every year - though it's worth remembering that in certain circles, my dog qualifies as a horse. Yesterday, I booked the journey there, opting for First Class to create some space, but at time-of-writing, the cheapest ticket back is £250 and that's without the option of reserving a seat (though I believe they'll release them in the coming weeks). I also don't like the idea of taking him up alone in case he morphs into Cujo in transit.
The alternative is finding a company that transports pets to take him for me, though this won't be cheap (insert budgie joke here). That said, it might be preferable, provided they're reputable and he's comfortable, as it would alleviate some stress. On top of delivering dogs, I've got to ship my equipment up too, plus I may have to buy a new back-projectable screen, as this year's show will have a much tighter get-in (fifteen minutes instead of the hour I spoilt with last year), so I won't have time to set up my projector up out-front without causing enough accidents to seriously impact my public liability insurance.
The biggest issue ahead is perhaps the most essential; somehow, I need to find the energy to be funny, which requires some semblance of an empty diary to write (or compile some old material at least). Yesterday, I emailed a few venues to try and get some previews booked - of which, a couple which will probably come good - but that's just another thing to administrate, and outside of my PR, I have no real help with this; all of the above must essentially be overseen by me, and right now, I career between wanting to do nothing and wanting to get on the outside of an entire packet of biscuits. It's not that I want to stop everything as that doesn't do me any good, though a little middle ground would be nice.
I'm feeling pretty defeated; there's so much to do and I don't want to do any of it. This isn't helped by the underlying sense of failure that goes with losing my dad, despite everything we did to try and keep him safe. I know there was no happy ending in store, though he might have still been here if we'd managed to get him to eat and drink or get out of bed; I know this was his responsibility too, but it's hard to keep sight of that when I was so instrumental in his care.
On top of this, I'm finding it hard to get my head around Edinburgh. The financial situation's tough, though the crowdfunding's proving fruitful - as we speak, £1505 has been raised - but there's still far to go (as with Thursday's child). And the cost is just a fraction of the bigger picture when a show has to be written, rehearsed and run-in, while also getting my head around the usual logistics. This year, I have the added challenge of getting my dog to Scotland too. When I saw my PR yesterday, he assured me taking him on the train won't be a problem - he's a dog-owner too, so does the same every year - though it's worth remembering that in certain circles, my dog qualifies as a horse. Yesterday, I booked the journey there, opting for First Class to create some space, but at time-of-writing, the cheapest ticket back is £250 and that's without the option of reserving a seat (though I believe they'll release them in the coming weeks). I also don't like the idea of taking him up alone in case he morphs into Cujo in transit.
The alternative is finding a company that transports pets to take him for me, though this won't be cheap (insert budgie joke here). That said, it might be preferable, provided they're reputable and he's comfortable, as it would alleviate some stress. On top of delivering dogs, I've got to ship my equipment up too, plus I may have to buy a new back-projectable screen, as this year's show will have a much tighter get-in (fifteen minutes instead of the hour I spoilt with last year), so I won't have time to set up my projector up out-front without causing enough accidents to seriously impact my public liability insurance.
The biggest issue ahead is perhaps the most essential; somehow, I need to find the energy to be funny, which requires some semblance of an empty diary to write (or compile some old material at least). Yesterday, I emailed a few venues to try and get some previews booked - of which, a couple which will probably come good - but that's just another thing to administrate, and outside of my PR, I have no real help with this; all of the above must essentially be overseen by me, and right now, I career between wanting to do nothing and wanting to get on the outside of an entire packet of biscuits. It's not that I want to stop everything as that doesn't do me any good, though a little middle ground would be nice.