How does Sunday start? I’ve always been an insomniac, and as I’ve got older that’s got harder. It’s not enough that your mortality should encroach, I can’t even get away from it by being unconscious. I sometimes think, ‘I should take a sleeping pill’ at 8.30am. I don’t want to be one of those old people getting up at 5am to potter.

Breakfast? I like a full English, but I have a vegan daughter – who is generally right about everything – so I’m trying to have more plant-based breakfasts. Every so often I manage porridge, although I haven’t quite kicked the bacon sandwich habit.

What does Sunday feel like? Contradictory. It’s a day of rest, but it’s hard to relax while darkened by the shadow of Monday. We try to buffer that feeling by lazing around with the papers, going for walks, staying well away from the study.

A day out? Highgate Cemetery. Never mind Karl Marx – George Eliot is buried there. It’s incredibly peaceful. Given my anxiety about Monday, that might sound weird – maybe it’s about embracing the fear of the future.

Do you drink? I gave it all up. Well, that’s not completely true. I’ve just finished making a documentary about holocaust denial for the BBC and I met a denier in Ireland. Afterwards it cuts to me having Guinness, saying: ‘I don’t normally drink, but I felt I had to have one.’

A significant Sunday? Mum died on a Saturday – apparently that’s quite common. Dad already had dementia, and my brother and I had to let him know the news. Forty-five minutes later we had to tell him again. We spent the whole of that Sunday reminding him over and over. That one really sticks out.

Trolls: Not The Dolls is on tour until May (davidbaddiel.com)