My morning was entirely consumed by a medical emergency. So much so that it's now 2pm and I've only just put on my socks. A member of the family tripped on the pavement and the impact of her face smashing into a concrete flag caused her glasses to cut the bridge of her nose. It fell to me to patch her up, mop up the blood, and otherwise run around providing help. Don't think it's a cut large enough to need a stitch but, for a time, wasn't sure.
Anyway, by the time that was done, I came to my office to do some work. I'd already been awake since 5am having one of those rare bouts of insomnia caused by the stress of now being without regular income. I need to find a job or sell just one or two articles a month. Sounds easy but the reality of writing (and to a lesser extent cartooning) is that words lack value when the market it over-saturated with dross. Towards that goal, I have realised that I've been going about it all wrong. It's why I couldn't sleep. My mind was filled with new plans. Today was meant to be the start of a new routine except the accident happened, I now need to go out to get some medical supplies and, well, such is life...
I thought I'd take a ten minute gap to blog but, when I sat down to write, emails began flying into my inbox. Overnight there was a SPAM attack on this blog which my SPAM protection had failed to stop. I had to spend give minute deleting emails from Ravi, Cecep, Arran, Carmen, Ninate, Daniel, Jorgel, Maureen, Auxilia, Jennifer, John, Patrick, Yomaire, Nilotpal, Toprak, VCR, Bahdim, Adm, Wanami, Osigwe, Maria and all the rest...
All of which is my way of saying: I don't think I'm ever destined to do what I want in life. Write and draw. Don't want to be a millionaire. Don't want a car or holidays or even glory (though a little appreciation goes a long way). I just want to be able to write my articles, the occasional book, and to fill both with my cartoons. Was that really too much to dream? Today it really does feel like I was aiming for the moon.
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