Twelve days passed. I couldn’t stop them…

So, this is Christmas. And what have we done?

I think I’ve realised that I’m terribly cyclical in the way I do things. I go through intense bursts of activity, and then I’ll leave whatever it is happily alone for the next three months before having another intense, mad burst of activity. It can’t be good for me, whatever it is.

I’m getting to the end of a major burst of writing- one of the main reasons for my blog silence. Any time away from typing is often a blessing. I’ve got two more reviews to write (one of which is a very long review on a decidedly uninteresting book), but almost everything else is wrapped up. I’ve also got to nag Highbury (the owners of Hotdog magazine) about the fact that it might be nice if somebody paid me some money for the insane amount of work I’ve done for them over the past few months. I’m such a card for actually expecting to get paid, but hey…

George went out for a wild night on the tiles last night at her work Christmas Party. Said before going, “I’ll definitely be back on the last tube.” Actually arrived back by Taxi at 3AM. I didn’t sit dramatically in the dark, waiting for her to turn the light on so I could exclaim “What time do you call this?” because, frankly, I was asleep. It can be a little disconcerting when she doesn’t call to tell me she’s going to be late, but it’s usually just a sign that she’s having a wonderful time.

I’m looking forward to Christmas, and the chance to actually sort some stuff out in my life.

There’ll be some more fun stuff here soon. Promise.

(If you believe that, you’ll believe anything.)

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