Masticating Styrofoam

You know how it is when your brain decides to go on vacation and there are articles and articles and articles to be written, none of them easy, none of them lighthearted. You move your fingers, you quilt together various quotes, you troll the internet for information, you say, ok, please, maybe, help.

And then you push the work away from you and try to write it remote control. Heart not in it, mind somewhere in the ether, soul stuck in my bolster and praying, praying, praying...that the editor won't notice.

I've accepted two other assignments this week. I didn't say no. I want to accumulate work and then go off AWOL for a while. I think my friend needs me. I think. She hasn't told me what's up yet. She's just been sad and mysterious.

And Mark sent him his standard text to tell me he's playing today and I sent him my standard reply to the news:

Be still my heart.

But he'll look around and I won't be there because well, I'm still not in town.

As G found out when she called to ask if I could go for such and such assignment tomorrow.

No.

Maybe the day after?

Maybe.

Yeah, OK. The day after.

And T said, OK you come back Wednesday, I'll brief you on Thursday and then Friday, voila, the interview. And I nod sadly because my heart has gone somewhere, flown away bye bye, and I'm left here to drag my carcass around and try to do the needful. Record the pearls of wisdom from the lips of this person or that. Assume the alert, interested look.

No, I'm not bored. No, I'm really interested in all you're saying.

I said I'm interested, dammit!

Wading through mud.

Masticating styrofoam.

Oh dear.

(I miss my Arnold boy. He's sticking to Dadda like a limpet. If Mum can find a dogsitter she wants to come to KL with me to get things sorted. Maybe Joseph)