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Dec. 24th, 2011 11:39 amThis morning I was too tired to move. If I had got a phonecall from the dentist, I would have budged very quickly, but all the stuff I've done over the last few months suddenly overflowed into sleepiness and the phone was silent.
I'm working over the next few days, but not so much. Since all the outside deadlines are met (except for one book review and one paper that has unaccountably re-appeared just when I thought it was dead) I shall work on the dissertation and a little bit on the novel and do the minimum of paperwork (three forms, folks, no more) and that's all between now and next year. In the interstices (for this will leave interstices - lazy interstices!) I shall see friends and I shall watch DVDs and I shall sleep. There will be much Dr Who. I might read. I have five books to read between now and 4 January, which is nothing. In fact, I shall return to bed and read one now and have only four books to read...
I've been getting more and more tired these last few weeks and small things have gone more and more wrong. I shall schedule a few more days time-out next year, I think and now, well, it's summertime. I shall sing Gershwin loudly and offkey and convince myself that the living is easy and that I can reach the sky and that it's slowtime.
I'm working over the next few days, but not so much. Since all the outside deadlines are met (except for one book review and one paper that has unaccountably re-appeared just when I thought it was dead) I shall work on the dissertation and a little bit on the novel and do the minimum of paperwork (three forms, folks, no more) and that's all between now and next year. In the interstices (for this will leave interstices - lazy interstices!) I shall see friends and I shall watch DVDs and I shall sleep. There will be much Dr Who. I might read. I have five books to read between now and 4 January, which is nothing. In fact, I shall return to bed and read one now and have only four books to read...
I've been getting more and more tired these last few weeks and small things have gone more and more wrong. I shall schedule a few more days time-out next year, I think and now, well, it's summertime. I shall sing Gershwin loudly and offkey and convince myself that the living is easy and that I can reach the sky and that it's slowtime.