I want to see people and I want to see life

I probably have something in me to write. Something with an arrangement of words which pleases and amuses me if no-one else. Something which pulls a string or two, or raises a smile.

I'm not finding it, though. Just as I came home last night promising to make up for the fact I hadn't invited anyone out for a beer when I really really fancied one by working on those ideas I had had on Sunday night. As though I've ever worked like that. Instead I sat inevitably in front of the computer working myself into a mild melancholy over the fact that everyone else was achieving and here I was merely sitting in front of the computer working myself into a mild melancholy.

I'm fine, though. Fine. I suspect that the dip is more a consequence of things going better than they have for some time, and the sudden awareness that it is in fact possible to raise my head above the parapet of financial and emotional panic and be creative; at which point (inevitably, being me) I panic like mad and freeze because I've been running fast in the opposite direction for the last three or four years. It's a slow ship to turn around, it would appear, and I've never been known for my patience. This and the dose of fluey cold which has kept me indoors and therefore too much in my own company leaves me gazing at my navel rather harder than I normally would.

Besides; tonight I went out, and the world already looks a little lighter.