I've been having a lot of very interesting talks recently. It's been a fascinating couple of weeks and actually, I think it's healthy to go through these career crises every now and then. It's made me remember how lucky I am and how much I've got.
I'm not going to stop writing. But, on the basis of the conversations I've had, I don't think I'm going to plough a huge amount of effort into doing it as my full-time job. I think I'd rather do something else. I mean, sure, there are many people the world over who I'd give my right arm to interview. And many fascinating stories I'd love to tell. But getting a secure job doing that - I'm just not sure that's possible. And I know I need security. Much as I'd love to be one of those fly-by-the-seat-of-their-pants gals who doesn't know where the next ten quid is coming from, I'm just not that person. I've got gig tickets to afford, and mortgage interest to pay off. The people I know who have that kind of lifestyle are either independently wealthy or happy being skint and insecure. Clearly I'm neither.
So, if writing's out as a career (unless anyone has some specific suggestions as to how I can make that work), then it's got to be something else. I've got an idea and it's going to require some sacrifices. But all in good time. There's no rush. I'm happy enough right now. I do need to start saving as whatever I do next will involve a paycut. In the meantime, I'll be right here, plugging away and enjoying myself as much possible.
Last night I went to KaraUke at Bloomsbury Lanes. No one else wanted to bowl, so Grania and had a lane to ourselves, an unusual opportunity to focus on our technique and become Good At Bowling. We improved significantly but didn't quite reach that elusive goal of being officially, empirically Good. Then we talked to Chris and his friends, drank wine, and got up on stage to sing The Shoop Shoop Song in front of a band of ukuleles to a surprisingly enthusiastic crowd dancing below us. It was a good night. I also saw Sara for an early evening pub visit. We had a lovely time and a tramp told the table next to us a joke. Q: Why couldn't the drummer get into his house? A: Because of his high hat. I got 20p out to give to him but he didn't come back to us, so then I gave it to a different tramp who was trying to sell us the Big Issue. He didn't tell us a joke but he did look like he might drop dead any minute. Hopefully he spent the 20p on some nourishing fruit and vegetables.
Bonne weekend, Faithful. Jusqu'a lundi.
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