I had to take my car in for an MOT today and stayed in the dealership to try and work whilst they got on with their more proper jobs, but I didnâ€™t get too much done. My second draft (really a total rewrite) of my script is not progressing quickly enough and am at the stage where I just want to give up writing forever. We know how it goes. But still every time I believe that itâ€™s not going to happen this time. And one time I will be right. Probably this time.
Itâ€™s made worse by the fact that the space bar on my crappy Apple laptop chooses to stop working about half the time. And I donâ€™t have time to take it in to get fixed. But if I took it in to get fixed Iâ€™d have twice the time because I wouldnâ€™t have to keep going back to press the space bar.
They sent me a video of the underside of my car - everything was fine, itâ€™s just part of the service - and this would be great if I was the kind of person who got sexually aroused by an undercarriage. But I donâ€™t. And anyone who says I do is lying. It just made me think of the different perspective on life a car mechanic has, looking at cars from underneath.
It took a bit longer than I expected, but they valeted my car, which was very welcome, so I drove it straight to Waitrose to see if the horrible man from a few days ago would walk past and congratulate me on the exemplary cleanliness of my number plate. But he was nowhere to be seen, the fucking hypocrite.
I struggled to get any work done all afternoon, which was annoying as my script work is now about to collide with the start of all the podcasts. I thought I had ages to read Sathnam Sangheraâ€™s book and listen to Jon Ronsonâ€™s podcasts and find out how to say Emily Atackâ€™s surname, but now itâ€™s nearly fucking February.
But aside from work all is going well. My daughter wanted me to go to sleep on her pillow at bedtime and I hugged her for a bit and she told me she loved me (still very rare occurrences and sheâ€™d just been saying how she only loved her mum at bath time). â€œDonâ€™t tell anyone,â€ I told her.
â€œI canâ€™t fib,â€ she lied.
But man, the heady happiness of lying beside this little idiot for a few minutes. She pretend to snore and we both giggled. Most of parenting is a relentless piss in the wind (sometimes literally), but moments like this you reach the zenith of human existence.
A really excellent, funny and slightly harrowing podcast with one of my absolute heroes, Terry Hall. Listen here
And remember the whole shebang is starting up again - still some tickets to Wolverhampton on Friday. And a handful just added to Birmingham on 23rd March. And Leicester Square shows starting on 4th Feb with Jon Ronson and Emily Atack.