Escapist froth

Before I get on to TV, can I tell you about my horrible health-scare thing, oh, can I, can I? Right, well I’ve been having this horrible health-scare thing and I’ve been out of my mind with worry — to the point where I’ve been saying, ‘Oh, please, God, let it just be cancer…’

Very likely it will prove in the end to be all purely psychosomatic — I am the most dreadful hypochondriac: not that that stops it feeling any less real — and what I’ve vowed to do if I come out the other side is to stop whingeing about my life so much. I shall try to learn to see myself more as others see me — really quite famous and successful and jealous-hatred-inducing — rather than as I see myself: total loser and failure in utter dead-end profession. And if I am in a dead-end profession (which no amount of major-disease-escaper’s euphoria will ever persuade me I’m not) then I need to do more to plot my exit strategy.