Phew! It has been a frantic week. The nature of my ‘career’ [/sobbing] is that I exist in one of two states, and never in a sensible midpoint:
STATE 1. I am bone-idle for weeks on end, with nary a whiff of busywork or cash. I mark the passage of time with daytime television, hence have seen the full cycle of Gilmore Girls on E4 at least twice. I am beset by the sense that if I died, NOBODY would notice for weeks, until the neighbours complained about the smell of my rotting corpse.
STATE 2. I am so busy that I work all waking hours, because when you work at home, you’re always at work. My husband and friends are but memories. The absence of cash is still probable, however.
Freelancers: is this a familiar pattern to you?
Most of this year has been spent in the former state, but the past fortnight has been the latter, and the next couple of weeks are likely to be the same; here are the edited highlights of this unusually varied week:
– A job in an office where people said the following sort of thing in total seriousness: “Here are Jedward’s shoes. Is it going to be OK to cover them in jelly?”
– Craft teacher extraordinaire Catherine Hirst recruited me to assist her in teaching knitting to a roomful of employees at a huge multinational company. If you ever need a confidence boost, try standing in a room full of sharp careerists in their thirties and forties struggling to do something you mastered when you were six. That said, my grandmother was a far superior knitting teacher than I was; I struggled to explain something which comes automatically after 25 years of practice, particularly in a manner that wasn’t totally patronising and, well, more suited to a 6-year-old.
– Episode 194 of Answer Me This!, as per usual.
Up next: trips to Salford and Gateshead. I can tell you’re jealous. If you know of good things to visit in either of those places, do tell.