Where is Jaywalker? Where is she, that all her commenters anxiously message her?
I am here. I am in exactly the same spot at the desk of squalor that I have been for the past two days but something appears to have transformed the contents of my head into a swirling mush of credit crunch soup. I am:
1. Putting some writing together for meetings next week. It must be good, or I will have fucked up my doubtless only chance to escape a life of directives. It is not good. It is decidedly average. It is B minus writing at best. I concluded in the bath last night that whilst I might read it myself, I would do so with a superior sneer, whincing at all the clunky phrases in it. It is hard to write when you are disgustingly critical. I am not big on self-acceptance, you may have noticed, and prefer self-flagellation. I am doing lots of self-flagellation because I can't allow myself to do lots of deleting, which I would like even better.
2. Fretting, wondering, clicking between fifteen open windows, starting posts and giving up on them. Grinding my teeth a lot, apparently. All night. Waking at five, when it's already light and not being able to get back to sleep. It reminds me of when Lashes was born, and would wake me at four and then I would not being able to get back to sleep because I had had a baby, Christ, what was I thinking, and it was mine forever now AND it was light and would I ever sleep again etc etc. Of course, waking at 5 is more fun in Central London because you can sit on your windowsill and watch drunks trying to go home. In Uccle all you can do is wake the dog up and poke it.
3. Trying to sort out next week because I want to see everyone but it's all predicated on a couple of great imponderables which are leaving me paralysed for decision making purposes. One of them involves a hole being drilled in my brother's head again, and that is decidedly crap. There are lots of other wonderful things also happening and it is all leaving me a little confused. Remember that in a normal week I totter from the desk of doom to the corridor of ennui and back and very little else. It is quite overwhelming.
3. Getting nothing, but nothing done of a practical sort. I forgot to take Lashes to the whiskery woman on Wednesday. I had one - one! - thing to do today - buy hair gel (for the goddam ridiculous school fête, no don't ask, so far I have had to provide a pair of blue Crocs, a mask and snorkel and €4, 20). It's nearly two. I have to pick the children up in an hour. I have not been. I only took the dog out because it was pissing me off so much, finding endless things to gnaw and be painful about. It is distracting me from my one woman tooth grinding circus.
4. Not reading blogs, which is a bit like not breathing. I started again this morning and I already feel much better. I think I was in withdrawal. The balm of reading other people's words is already starting to take the edge of the crazy.
In summary I am ok, if a little deranged and normal service will resume, at the latest, after next week. In the meantime I do have something very important to tell you about Belgian elephant husbandry and will be trying to do so later today between tooth grinding bouts.