I'm doing work today. Yes work. I was meant to be doing work yesterday but my brain completely gave in and decided that it had done enough work for a few days and after several hours of just starting aimlessly at my computer, struggling to even resend a tweet about a big dog that people were excited about, I instead sat on the sofa and played Xbox. Sadly this wasn't as enjoyable as I'd hoped, as every second spent killing people in medieval Italy was overshadowed by thinking of all the work I should be doing and just how big that dog was and that I should probably tell people about it. If there's anything worse than doing work, its not doing it, but thinking about how much you aren't doing it to the point where you aren't enjoying anything else you're doing. Its like having a little angel and demon on your shoulder but both have put aside their heavenly and hell(ly?) differences to high five, team up and both shout at you about the same things. I think days off are underrated. I am currently craving a couple of days off that do not require me to do work of any kind. However what will happen is that these days off will occur, they'll go on for too long and suddenly I'll be broke and wanting to work. Essentially people, I am a hard to please fickle man.
It was a somewhat joy then that last night's gig was cancelled. The venue was quite possibly one of the coolest places I've ever been, styled in a 1930s caberet bar design, with red velvet curtains, dinner tables and the sort of decor that felt wrong without men in trilbys discussing who was 'gonna git it' next sitting there and flipping coins. It was one of those sorts of places that made me wish I lived in the 30s. Then I thought about the how badly they treated diabetes then, the lack of the internet and the fact that I'd probably have to go to war at some point soon. I'm glad I don't live in the 30s. So great venue, great line-up of acts, but with only six people, who originally were a party of 10 but four cancelled, the executive decision was made that I could go home. So only 20 minutes later I was back on my sofa, slippers on, watching Glee and drinking whisky. Yes whisky. Occasionally I seem to think I'd quite like a glass of the stuff to relax me. There are three rather nice bottles of it in our kitchen and all have remained virtually untouched. This is because when I have one glass of whisky, I remember why I don't drink it very often, the heartburn kicks in, my mouth tastes like wrong, and I return the bottle back to the cupboard to sit for four months till I forget about the experience and try again. Stupid whisky.
So to make up for yesterday's lack of doing anything today is for writing and then Fat Tuesday tonight, which so far, is the first one that hasn't sold out since last Sept. I'm a bit sad about this as headlining is Dan Antopolski who is a man that never fails to make me laugh. It will be excellent. Should you want to come along then tickets are here:
Now to work. Or at least think about work and why I'm not doing it. Sigh.