I suppose that this is just a warning that this year will probably be full of posts like these, which are the textual equivalent of me going MEH and flinging a pen across my desk in a fit of pointless pique. It's silly because I got myself into this situation, and really it is a combination of a lot of good things, rather than a bad thing, and sometimes it is energising rather than exhausting. And on the other hand, I'm not sure how else it could have gone - I wanted to do the PhD, can't afford to do it without the work, and I really wasn't expecting the book deal to come along when it did, and so what was I supposed to do, turn it down due to bad timing? Possibly the answer to this would be to sacrifice my social life, but you will take my social life when you pry it from my cold dead hands, etc.
Anyway! It's all going to be fine; fundamentally all I really have to do is produce a novel by next June and an upgrade paper by the end of May and not get fired in the interim, and that is totally doable; it will get done because it has to get done, and that's all there is to it, and I've always managed before. And OK, there is maybe a tiny little part of me worrying that no, actually, this time you really have taken on too much, and this is going to be the time when you get fired/fail your upgrade/get sued for breach of contract on the book deal/end up gibbering in a corner and being checked into the Priory (and oooh, actually, that'd be lovely). But there is no point thinking like that; it's only a year after all, this time next year I'll be back in Sudan and the hard part'll be over, and it'll actually be funny thinking about the time when I turned up at work dressed as a goth, having forgotten a 12pm meeting with the Solicitor General followed by a 1pm meeting with my publisher in a scary club in Soho with no name on the door. Christ.
On a different note, walking to work this morning, counting the vomit splashes on the pavement, I started wondering about the fact that lots of money and effort is put in by local councils to stop people pissing on the street (those portable plastic urinals, etc.), but no one seems to bother much about the puking, which is funny given that you can generally just wash the wee away, whereas the acid in the puke tends to leave more permanent marks. So couldn't someone invent some sort of temporary plastic puke-bag, that could be clipped onto, say, lamp posts and the like on a Friday or Saturday night? I mean, I understand that the street-pukers are in extremis, but generally they make some sort of effort to puke somewhere slightly out of the way, e.g. in a corner/alleyway or similar, so perhaps they would go for the puke bags if they were on offer? I don't imagine they'd be any less pleasant to get rid of on the part of street cleaners, especially when compared to scraping hardened vomit of the pavement. Am clearly genius and should patent this idea post haste.
I smell very nice today.
Yep, that's it.