I was in Oliver! when I was 10 and I peed myself on stage in front of however many people the Palladium holds. It was the stuff of nightmares.

Also my most triumphant: 2017 at the Royal Court. Julie Hesmondhalgh reads my psychologist’s report over two hours. Every excruciating intimate word of it. Extreme verbatim theatre. One night only.

Putting chocolate mousse in my agent’s face. Somebody had done it to me – that thing where they go, “Smell this, it smells funny”, and then they put it in your nose. A year later I was in this French restaurant with a very 1980s-style dessert trolley and, before I knew it, I had a bowl of chocolate mousse in front of me. And my agent went, “What’s that smell?”, and it felt impossible not to … I immediately felt awful and tried to apologise. He, of course, said that he found it funny. But I knew he didn’t.

After the 2012 Olympics I hosted the parade. I had on a little skirt and when the prime minister came on everyone cheered. I thought: “Oh my God, they love David Cameron,” but they were cheering because my skirt had blown up, and I’d flashed my knickers at him.

To follow your path and not worry about what to do too much; one thing leads to the next, and you wind up where you’re meant to be.

Being stuck in a project that’s not challenging me, or true to my nature.

An Elizabeth Peyton painting.

Driving my convertible over the Bay Bridge when I was 18, listening to Thinking of You by Sister Sledge.

Being hard on myself. I don’t want to pass that on to my daughters, so I’m trying to stop.

Making films exactly how I wanted.