It’s the end. But the moment has been prepared for. Because I have a spreadsheet and a calendar.

It was our final show and my last chance to catch other people’s. I reluctantly wrote off the chance to see an assortment of stand-ups I’d meant to get to (sorry), managing to squeeze in three shows before The Last Night in Edinburgh. And that, as you can imagine, was going to be a Big One. I have had to buy in an extra consignment of Capital Letters.

I made my first ever trip to The Counting House to see The Choob, a crazy character comedy show set on the London Underground, before heading off to do the final Three Man Roast. That went swimmingly, aided by another pot of tea, and, inspired by a talkative audience, I enjoyed going off piste during my compèring section and the final section of my set. It was my version of bringing in games for the end of term.

Sadly, I had to sneak off the end of the show in order to make it down to The Tron to see Tom Bell Begins. Tommy and the Weeks tangentially (and inadvertently) helped to get me into stand-up so I grabbed the opportunity to see Tom’s show.

Not long into it, my laugh got me into trouble again. Tom dropped the Q-bomb – “quantum-locked” – and I made the mistake of laughing before he had the chance to explain the Doctor Who reference. I had exposed myself. My reward was to play a game of grandmother’s footsteps and, having won that, to be portrayed by Jennifer Aniston – so all’s well that ends well.

The last thing I went to see at the Fringe was only my second play of the month. I’d meant to see far more theatre but never quite got round to choosing any. The first one I saw was, you’ll recall, atrocious. Despite my concern about the description of A Hero of Our Time as an adaptation of an overlooked Russian novel, I rather enjoyed it.

You may wonder why I would choose such a play, given my apprehensiveness. It’s Doctor Who again. Sorry. I follow Peter Wicks off of twitter because he’s a fanboy and he had tweeted about the play, what with being in it, so I thought I’d go along. I’m glad I did, not least because he was awesome in it (as rightly commended by the NSDF).

Dinner was a delicious Chinese with my frequent Edinburgh companions Niki and PBR. I then met PBR’s friend Tim (from Found Objects) and casually mentioned Doctor Who. Within 15 minutes, we were discussing Ian Chesterton and Barbara Wright’s sex life. I took this to indicate he is a fan.

And then I was in the Dome chatting to Peter off of The Russian Play, who I’d not met before, about Doctor Who and cult TV. This is my life, people.

I had planned to have a Big Night Out. It was Friday and I fancied marking the end of the Fringe in style. But actually I had a bit of a cold, was quite tired and needed to be up in the morning, so at the horrendously early hour of 2am, I went home to bed.

Not with a bang, but with a whimper.

What I learnt today: Let’s face it: Doctor Who is the glue that binds the world together.