Don't cut off your nose...

I literally don't know if I'm coming or going at the moment. I have so much to achieve that I'm starting work at 7.30am and going through til 9 without stopping.

This evening, I decided that enough was enough, and threw in the towel at 7.30pm, made some pasta, and watched the Bake Off live, which I think has transferred to Channel 4 in the most excellent manner. I'm not even minding the ad breaks because it means I have time to make cups of tea and return plates to the kitchen. I may sound mercenary or a bit contrary when I say this, but I'm not missing any of the old guard. Noel and Sandy have really found their rhythm and I've even taken to Pru, who I think is rather witty, a bit naughty and very kindhearted. 

I had Countdown on in the background earlier, and, whilst watching the lovely Rachel Riley doing her sums, it suddenly struck me that there's never a point in walking out on something to prove how much the rest of the world will miss you. (Carol Vorderman.) It's one of those horrible facts of life. People will have a brief panic and then you'll be replaced by someone cheaper, younger and probably just as good.

Many years ago, I worked as the resident director on the West End production of Taboo. I was young, something like 26, and the producers never quite seemed to trust me to get on with my job. As audiences dwindled, they paid me less and less, which felt rather mean-spirited as I'd previously done six months pre-production on the show for the ludicrous fee of £500!

Anyway, I got more and more dispirited and finally said "fuck you very much. I'm amazing. Try steering this boat without me!" I was horrified when they accepted my resignation and immediately replaced me with a cast member. When the show did its UK tour, and then went to Broadway, I was, of course, nowhere in the mix. Lesson learned. Don't cut off your nose to spite your face. If you want to leave a job, make sure you can put your hand on your heart and say you'll be happy for whoever is brought on board as your replacement. That, or that the job is just so genuinely awful that it's a relief to leave.

And, of course, the flip side of that argument is that, in the process of thinking we don't want our precious gig to go to someone else, we do often put up with relentless hideousness. My greatest regret in life is not walking out on Beyond The Fence when I was first compromised. I stuck at it and stuck at it because I needed the money and wanted the show on my CV. In retrospect I realise that it threatened my marriage and triggered a nervous breakdown which I took some time to recover from. I am still feeling the dark ripples of that awful period because it encompassed both of my fields of expertise: telly and theatre, and the worlds are very small. I know there are people out there who have heard that I'm impossible to work with and that fills me with great sadness. And when you get the reputation for being difficult, just being passionate about something starts to raise eyebrows. And then you really are in a no-win situation...

That's probably the most honest blog I've ever written. Apologies if it feels like I'm over-sharing!