I seem to buckle quite under pressure, but it’s a slow process that takes ages and ages before I eventually scurry back to my pad and play the Xbox…my evidential escape from the pressures of living.
My momentary, and temporary, suicide.
But yesterday was far worse when I took what someone said over what I suggested to be far more damaging to my career than anything so far, not to mention the ever-growing loneliness at work (I hardly jabber with anyone now except for my senior, who is lovely and gives me the time of day, but for how long), while I’ve not been working hard enough at comedy and suddenly dying drastically at Al Cowie’s Llaugh (where I was supposed to compere, Al didn’t remember I was even on the bill and I just didn’t remind him of my role there due to my day, and dulefully died a 2 minute death)
So I’ve stopped caring…I’ve stopped caring whether I get shouted out and “explained at” once more, while livng indifferently to what I consider “audience people I don’t like”.
A.k.a. I’m turning unprofessional.