I've not really done any mourning yet. I'm the sort of chap that pushes things aside until I have time to deal with stuff which means in recent months I've engaged the stiff upper lip and jolly well got on with work.
This is good because I've got lots of work which as a freelancer is jolly important, work means food and waistcoats.
My cunning bury it all away plan isn't perfect though, and gaps are starting to show through the resolve, I've not had an unbroken nights sleep for a while and I am finding my temper is much shorter. It's like a race is on, I need to finish this book by the 17th of December but I don't know if I can hold everything together that long.
So I suppose it is a bit like the final attack on the Death star. I've got to stay on target just a little bit longer trying to dodge the tie fighter of grief long enough to fire the proton torpedo into the exhaust vent.
I'm hoping some sort of Han Solo type will appear with The Falcon to help me out. Perhaps I should just trust my instincts more and use the force. trans - drink my bodyweight in gin every evening.
3 comments:
I hoped that might happen and that I'd found the man who would. I bought him a T-shirt with the word 'hero' on it, and I never saw him again. Keep it up with the gin, and if you need any help, I'm well up for a big night out.
it's a poor substitute to gin but i find binging on home made chocolate chip cookies can cure just about anything. get miss tp into the kitchen pronto...
Clair - That sounds like a plan.
Susan - Do you have a good recipe?
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