Stopped packing to eat some plums and write a quick blog. I'm moving things from my big Edinburgh case into a smaller case for my smaller break. I know it's ridiculous that I've been home from the fringe a week and I haven't unpacked yet. That is one of the joys of living alone. No-one but me to climb over the massive open suitcase in the hallway and I can even do it in the dark now. Other things I could get away with:

1) pooing with the bathroom door open
2) walking around naked
3) never using plates
4) leaving dirty pants on the floor
5) cleaning only when people visit
6) trying to discourage people from visiting
7) hiding fluffy bed socks down the side of the sofa for when your feet are cold
8) lighting candles and not getting wrong off your mam
9) pausing Gary Barlow on X Factor and pretending he is your boyfriend
10) mewing like a cat whenever you like

I do all of the above bar one.

Some people would consider it lazy to not have unpacked yet but compare it to the fact that my fake mini Christmas tree is still in the spare room, fully erect, fully decorated included lights so that when December comes I can just plug it back in. Lazy or brilliant?

I've been enjoying my time off very much. I have discovered a new cafe, tweaked jokes with a friend, got addicted to The Great British Bake Off, slept a ridiculous amount, eaten the same dinner 4 days in a row, bought a small bedside lamp for late night dips into Tina Fey's brilliant book. Always nice to fall asleep giggling. I've also eaten twice in the same restaurant where Sausage and Mash is listed as a STARTER. There is also a meat store visible through glass from your table. If you pick the right table. If you're a veggie just pretend it's a zoo with very red animals. That are very still.

Got a few nice days with the man now where we can sing our silly songs and just be daft with each other. Planning days around meals and never wearing a watch. That is my definition of a holiday.

Slept badly yesterday due to an unsettled belly and met up with 2 friends who were delicate due to a boozy night. They'd had 11% proof ale. I'd had dodgy mayonnaise.

We went to quite a fancy Italian restaurant and I had scrambled egg which felt like such a waste of their skills. I treated it like an A1 cafe. Scrambled egg is not one of the things I'm excellent at (dumplings, banoffee mess, frosties). I once had a scrambled egg competition with my sister where she prepared lovely fluffy yellow eggs in a pan and I produced a lump of heavy grey egg from a microwavable measuring jug. Mine was faster though so I won.

Belly is better now, it was only tiny sickness not one of those bouts where the silver lining is being able to get into smaller trousers.

I was tired and docile yesterday just wandering around Paperchase touching pads and sniffing pens and working out if I need any more post-it notes or map tacks. I bought a new notepad, a diary for 2012 and a postcard of a knitted penguin. Shopping list fulling ticked.

I didn't complain about anything yesterday which is something I've discovered I'm very good at. Complaining to companies was always something I left to other people. My sister can write a killer letter which frightens companies into giving us vouchers to ease the stress we incurred over whatever the professional mishap was. My fella is wonderfully awkward when companies don't play by the rules. He can quote legalise and I find it such a turn on. I've always just voted with my feet. Someone treats be badly, I'll just not go back. Not any more. (That sounds like a trailer for a terrible film where a woman asks to speak to a manager and then gets a credit note).

It started a month ago when I emailed a shop about their treatment of my mother, then in the last week I have complained on the phone to 2 estate agents and an airline. I make notes before the call and in order to get the anger back, I tell a friend all about it before getting on the blower. Good to get the heart pumping. I don't raise my voice, I don't swear, I just explain the problem and wait. Just telling someone I am unhappy with their service and asking what they're going to do about it, is incredibly satisfying. Like a big shit. More so when I win. Like a big shit with a sparkler in it.

I'm not going to go out and actively look for things to complain about but I will now give companies a chance to keep me as a customer. They get to make amends and I feel alive. Can't be bad. Now to write a letter to those who gave me the dodgy mayonnaise. Dear My fridge...

Hello.
This isn't technically my first blog as I've started these things before. I'm not brilliant at sticking at things. Sure, I'll cling to the last biscuit like it's a boyfriend but I quit the Brownies after a week and barely got a note out of my borrowed from school clarinet. So let's take this one blog at a time.

I am back from a hectic month in Edinburgh and have some time off before getting on the road for a (at this moment) 100 date tour.

Edinburgh was busy but great fun. My favourite bits were:

1) Sausage and Mash with the flatmates on the first night. Something of a tradition I have.
2) Watching Michael J Dolan's show. His and Tim Key's show were my favourites of those I saw.
3) Co-hosting the Radio 2 Arts Show with Penny Smith. A genuine joy from start to finish.
4) Punching flatmate J in the head - she was wearing a hard hat we found at our flat
5) Food with my visiting friends Geoff and Emma. It was early but the food was great and company even better.
6) A pint (of coke) at The World's End with my bloke, my bezzie and her bloke.
7) Singing Summer Nights stone cold sober in the street with flatmate J.
8) Showing any food shopping off to flatmate S. "Then I got this, then I got this.."
9) Any time I saw my friend Joe.
10) My fella stealing one of my posters for me at the end of the run then realising it had a tash drawn on it.
11) Finding somewhere quiet at 10pm on a Saturday night to have pots of tea with lovely ladies.
12) Performing my show each night especially the night I knew both my fella and Ronnie Corbett were watching. Double scary.
and
13) my man driving me and my massive case (and loads of bags I'd accumulated) home.

Now I'm back, I'm focusing on relaxing and catching up on sleep. I had a nap at 7pm tonight. I haven't left home for 2 days and have only had 1 bath in that time (and no showers). I disgust myself. Fuck knows when I'll put a bra on again. I've spent a lot of time in a nightie that makes me look like Bubbles DeVere. It's so comfy if a little tent-like. I've arranged a lunch with friends tomorrow mainly to get me out of the house. Don't tell them that. They think I'm looking forward to their company when really I just want to make sure I wash my nunny and wear something with a waistband.

Sx