Rock and Roll, baby
People often ask me what I do after my shows.
‘I bet you make the most of being away don’t you? Mad night on the town? Beers in the hotel?’
Not these days.
I used to love a drink after a gig.
In my thirties I got slammed every weekend when I worked away. Who could resist free drinks to go with all that post-show adrenaline?
But after a night of boozing with other acts on the bill, I’d wake up with monumental beer fear the next morning and spend the whole day dreading that night’s show. When it went well (it usually did, despite the hangover) I’d be so relieved that I’d repeat the festivities of the night before.
And then my kids were born.
Sleep suddenly became much more valuable than lager.
I calmed down considerably and stopped working away. I didn’t want to miss anything.
But then my Facebook page took off. Which lead to my first ever solo tour in 2018. The buzz from those initial few shows was off the scale.
Something I’d not experienced before.
Hundreds of people. Not coming to see ‘comedy’. But coming to see me. Wow.
Saying hello to everyone afterwards in the foyer. People saying lovely things.
The excitement sent me to bars. But this time, there were no other acts to hang out with. Just me, sitting on my own, slurping a pint or four.
It’s hardly Led Zeppelin throwing TV’s out of windows but it was enough to disrupt my sleep and make me feel pretty delicate the next day.
I was drifting back into the old habits.
So I readjusted.
Nowadays I view these trips as a spa weekend.
I do the show and meet the audience afterwards. Then I take a leisurely stroll from the venue to my hotel, by which time the adrenaline has fizzled away, leaving me primed for a glorious full night’s sleep, star-fishing in a double bed.
With the option of a cheeky lie-in.
Sometimes I get up for breakfast and then go back to bed.
Feeling fresh as a fucking daisy.
Rock and roll, baby.
My 2022 Role Model is onsale now.
Get each new blog emailed direct by joining my mailing list at the bottom of this page.