I haven’t had time to read your blogs for a few days – I catch up with a few once in a while, but I’m sorry you’re not seeing me about much. It should be a two-way street and if you take the trouble to visit me, I want to return the kindness, but unread posts are up in the hundreds again. It’s not going to get less busy for the next three weeks or so and I may well not get around to blogging some days either. It’s a combination of several things: school, NADFAS, the London flat, Lena’s family visiting and the Sage’s business are the main things – I usually keep going throughout but I’m flagging a bit and, for once, the ‘blade will have to go lower in my priorities, much as I enjoy blogging and reliably as it helps me to wind down. Apart from all the rest, I’ve a friend who has got some family problems and I’d like to have time to write to her frequently in the hope of giving some long-distance support. I may, of course, write most days as usual, but if I’m not about, don’t think there’s anything amiss.
Today, for example, I had a mental list of things to do (writing it down just means that I’m in danger of forgetting – I write down appointments, in detail, but not what I have to do day-to-day) which fell to pieces when the post arrived. Later, I had a long phone call that took the rest of the morning. Then, I realised that one of the to-dos was a bit more complex than I’d thought, so I sent an email and haven’t had a reply yet. I did do the essentials and – well, loves, am I a woman to miss a deadline? I’m on track, but not without difficulty.
I’ve often mused on my stupidity in not taking a proper job, where either I could take some control or else would just receive a salary and leave it behind in the evening. But I didn’t, and there’s no point in reflecting on the wrong decision made 20 years ago. Not that I can always resist the temptation, but I do try. And it’s not that things aren’t interesting, in a good way. I enjoy my work, but it’s a bit disjointed and I can’t do anything about that.