This is the final week of our comedy festival show, Greatnes Thrust Upon Them.

I don't know what I'll do with myself next Tuesday. At the moment, this is the pattern:

9.30am - go to work, have a coffee just in case you get tired later. Bounce about feeling perfectly fine.

4pm - crash completely, exhausted, useless. Lose the ability to speak, count, type, think, exist etc.

4.30 - contemplate a second coffee. Probably too late. Have cold water instead. Stare into the middle distance. Receive sympathetic looks from co-workers. Sometimes a pat on the shoulder. Repress desire to weep.

5pm - leave work.

5.30 - get to trades hall, greet actors, crew, bar staff. Get news updates (who's running late, who's tired, who has a cold, what props are missing, how many people have booked tickets). Contemplate dinner of baked potato again (or decide for dinner later on).

6pm - wake up all of a sudden, triggered by nothing but pattern recognition.

6.30 - Stew walks in and says "Half hour call". There's something about the way he says it. I don't get any less awake.

7pm - so very awake. Show starts.

8pm - show finishes. I see friends in the audience, or nobody I know, and saunter downstairs to the bar.

11pm - eat dinner on the nights I didn't eat a baked potato. Regret earlier baked potato decision.

1.30am - about ready for bed. Think things over. Glad I didn't have a second coffee.

See?

Next week, what will I do?