I scared myself a little at work today and realised that if I'm going to succeed at this non-smoking game I need to get my life re-integrated so I can simply do the things I like to do without worrying overly about the smoking vs non-smoking identity.
Angela and I are due to resume bridge early in the new year and I've been wanting to go back to stand-up and have another try for quite a while. I haven't felt very funny since the 6th of September, but I was having a bit of humourous "verbal diarrhea" in the office today and decided I am ready to put a new set together and have another go.
I zapped off an email to Scott at the Classic Comedy Club asking for a slot and then Tessa and I went to the Club last night and while I was there had a brief chat with Scott letting him know that I want him to give me a few slots so I can't run away and hide again. As soon as he gives me my start date I will no longer be an ex-raw-comedian. Hopefully the comedy unquit will be as sticky as my smoking quit.
It was a little funny as I stood there last night looking out through the glass and into the terrified eyes of those soon to be sacrificed to the crowd as they sucked the nicotine into their systems as fast as possible to calm their nerves.
Will I be able to resist the nicotine before my first set? Will I need it afterwards? I'm hoping that the answer to both of these is "No", but I can no longer look at my reflection in the window, floating translucently among the raw comedians and not want to be back on that stage. Life is full of risk; when you go to KFC, every single drumstick has the dog-killing bone, and it's just as effective against humans as dogs, yet we continue to go to the red and white stripes to lick our fingers.
I need some material ... I think I have enough to do a set on quitting smoking, if I can make it into a coherent story that's funny otherwise I might just have to talk about something else, but smoking or not smoking I will be up on that stage.