Rollercoaster

I had a near-death experience last week.

I was driving from London to Plymouth to open a comedy gig and I was half an hour away from the venue – so near and yet so far – when my lovely little car lost all power. I couldn’t pull over, because I was right in the middle of this:

It’s called Splatford Split and the bit I broke down on was that bit there on the right, heading towards the camera. On that tiny triangle. And the cars were WHIZZING past me on both sides, as they accelerated to get up the hill. And it was pitch black. I was nearly splatted. And split.

Long story short (because I’ve tried to write this a few times and it keeps re-triggering me, so sod that) I spent 10 minutes or so sure that I was about to get hit before Simon The Highway Officer And Utter Hero stopped the traffic and towed me off.

Apparently getting towed off by Simon The Hi-Vis Guy sounds proper filthy, so I’m keeping that in.

I didn’t open the gig… I closed it! Call me the headliner, baby! No idea what I said or did, it was all adrenaline tbh.

The next few days were tough – full-on trauma response – flashbacks, adrenaline rushes and lots of crying. Lovely friends who listened, lovely LOVELY husband & daughter who listened and hugged and stayed close and lovely me actually, who decided to take care of myself. You can, you see. Who knew?

Then yesterday I had to go to this do with him. He’d been nominated for an award and it was a posh do, all dressy and fussy. Not my thing at all. So I pulled out my dress, even dusted off the f*** me boots (haven’t worn them for YEARS!) and off we schlepped. I cried before we left, reapplied my make-up, cried on the way there and then cried because HE WON THE BLOODY AWARD!

Today has been a little hung over and a little tired but very, very happy and proud. I’m married to a fantastic person and everyone else knows it too.

For God’s sake don’t tell him I wrote that. (He won’t read this, are you kidding? He has to listen to ENOUGH)

It’s been a crazy week. I’m ready for a few nice easy, non-stressful days now.

I’m ready for them, but I won’t get them. Warwick tomorrow, Plymouth (again, dear God) on Friday and Cambridge on Saturday.

Wish me luck on the roads!