At about the same time I would bash out an entry on my lunch break (such as it is), a neighbouring colleague has taken to eating a bag of crisps at his desk and occasionally trying to chat up another neighbouring colleague. All of this happens at decibels slightly louder than I’m able to ignore – louder than my mp3 player can reasonably drown out without deafening me.

And obviously I can’t devote evenings and weekends to the profound exploration of my soul as I have an aggressive schedule of television and shopping to carry on with, so that’s out. I suppose between the incessant crunching and relentless tunes, something blogworthy could fall through the cracks here, but I wouldn’t count on it.

(But for those of you counting on it…)

Things are a little uncertain in the world of me at this time. My contract (and within this, vacation), my health, the wellbeing of family – everything’s up in the air at the moment. Within that queasy build up to uncertain stability, it can be a bit difficult to maintain the plot, since each life island skates around beneath my feet as they seek purchase on a foundation that hasn’t quite congealed.

I have to go back for more blood work this week, as either my last round of tests proved inconclusive or the sample clotted faster than it took them to test it. Which, fine. I’m a renewable resource, I get that. But what about the psychological ramifications?! Not to mention that work is becoming increasingly pissed off about my many appointments, which began early on in my employment you’ll recall (someone out there recalls, surely, something to do with a house and a lawyer). Regardless, they're going to stick me in the arm again and there's nothing I can do about it.

So I’m still feeling crappy and I still don’t know why, and that makes everything else in my life seem much less manageable than it otherwise would.

But I’m making some painful yet important strides in my work and rolling with the punches life metes out regardless and the chips will fall where they may (beneath the stove is my guess) and life goes on.

For instance! I’m attending my first ever banjo lesson next week, with one of the only banjo teachers I could find in London:

http://www.fredwoodbear.com/

I fully expect that either he’ll fall fast asleep within moments of my picking or I’ll be completely incapable of understanding a thing he says. What do you reckon?

But it will be a good opportunity for me to get my head out of my own shirt and start doing something structured with my time that makes a bit of sense. Bruce is also going to teach me how to play tennis, and then maybe once I ascertain where I’m at, I’ll finally look sidelong at some type of writing course and ask it if it wants to slow-dance.

Then I’m thinking I’ll murder the sales guy at work. I’ve gotta go.