So, the snot is abating, and the congealing scum on my lungs is beginning to subside. The pile of tissues by my side is growing at a slower rate, and I am feeling less sorry for myself.
And I have been thinking. Thinking about the future, my career and my ambitions. The fact that 2009 has probably been my most ambitious year yet, does not mean that I have a particularly clear picture of where it will take me. And the confines of my wonderful yet taxing job, and the perplexingly infinite frustration it generates, supresses a creative urge that I feel has been missing for a few years. I look forward to Christmas as a time of rest and reflection, knowing full well that in order to have a sustainable sense of perspective I need to make every day balanced and calm, rather than hyping myself up to the next breathing space.
So, what is next for me? Can I keep learning and moving forward in my current role? Or is there something else, a flicker of realisation that there are bigger fish to fry, possibly writing, possibly something else even more different?
I look forward to my December of reflection. And in the meantime I hope this realisation that I need to transform the way I approach work and my own time stays.
Also, dear Norris managed to lock herself out of her flat, with Liam away in Malaysia, so she is staying with me overnight and has been looking after me very sweetly this evening, specifically through the medium of pizza and garlic bread.
Charlie has already gone to Brighton to his Mum's, and I am typically missing him, despite being only separated by hours ... this is where I pledge to be more attentive and appreciative when he is around ... when I get better, of course.
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