The best medicine – 261

The stand up comedy tutor asked us to rant about something for three whole minutes today without thinking too much about what came out of our mouths. ‘I want the energy to be right up here, at 10!’ he cried.

Everyone seemed a bit reluctant to really go for it, but not me. I have a lot of anger in me and oh my God was it good to stand up there and scream my head off about how much I hate my neighbours. I didn’t do 10 – I did one hundred and ten!

I really went for it. I effed and jeffed, I waved my arms in the air and jumped up and down like a banshee. It was the most cathartic three minutes I’ve experienced in a long time and while it didn’t get much in the way of laughs, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

‘She won’t need a microphone,’ said one of the participants drily after I’d finished venting. True. I think they must of heard me in Aberdeen.

What a blast. Laughter really is the best medicine and for the four hours I spent doing the stand up comedy course in central London, I didn’t feel remotely sad. What a blessed relief!

Sad came back on the train home, but I didn’t care. I’d got a lot of my chest, both physically and metaphorically. The muscles fronting my rib cage were freer and emotionally, I felt a whole lot lighter.

We’ve got to do a five minute routine in front of a proper audience tomorrow. I’ve half a mind not to turn up. I got home at 8pm and I am back there tomorrow – where the hell am I going to find the time to write a half-way decent comedy set? I either duck out or get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Watch this space.

Personal manifesto

I’m a funny badass.

 

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