Are you an early riser? Sunday mornings are one of the few that haven’t changed. We’re still working on The Mash Report, so it’s my day off. I might stay in bed until midday. Given I’m barely leaving the house any more that is, frankly, criminal. Years of Saturday night gigging keeps me up until 2am. This sort of information disgusts my father.
Are you enjoying eating in? We’d normally be straight out for brunch. I’ve never been much of a cook before. But the last two Sundays I’ve made chicken curry, which much to my mother’s surprise wasn’t an affront to my ancestral heritage. Our Indian family recipes aren’t handed down on paper: my mother and grandmother have tried to educate me, but it’s like having Roger Federer teaching you how to play tennis.
Are you drinking? I’m ashamed to say less than normal, though that might be more of a reflection of how much I usually consume. After recording the TV show my executive producer and I often leave the studio in a state of dishevelment.
What about working out? Have you been talking to my mum? I’m taking my government-mandated walks and am trying to do home fitness in my living room, but I have to force myself. I’m cooking my own dinners, isn’t that enough?
What was a special Sunday? Gigging at the Lowry Centre in Salford last year. It was probably the biggest solo show I’d ever done. Life without an audience is an adjustment – coming through as a comedian you’re told whatever else comes along, always keep your live work going. Having it all taken away, for now, at least, is terrifying.
How do you wind down? I’ve got an appalling number of unread books and I’m chipping my way through them. I’ve mostly just been inhaling 30 Rock and vintage Simpsons. It’s the equivalent of a turtle pulling its head back into its shell, my safe and happy place.