What do you do when you have meet-ees who keep cancelling at the last minute, knowing they'll have to pay a cancellation fee, but who don't care, when every bit of work you do feels like it's draining you of the energy you wanted to have left for something creative, and when your day starts at 7am and finishes at 8pm with a meet-ee who thinks it's amusing to discuss bigamy as though it's a positive and 'natural' thing? God save me, it's days like this when I fear I am a danger to society. I could freely mouth-off like a trucker at any minute to one of these people, or resort to sticking needles in voodoo dolls (if I had any) just to get the stress and fury out of my system.
And only yesterday morning, I was writing a short children's story in French. Where did that calm, hopeful person disappear to today? And why can't I be her more often? What is happening to me? I'm wound up like a tight internet cable that refuses to lie straight anymore. (That would be my internet cable. No fancy stuff like wi-fi here. Not unless I want to pay astronomical charges to have my own landline all to myself. Incidentally, the Czechs pronounce 'wi-fi' as 'wiffy', which always makes me giggle.)
Somebody please save me or sedate me because the chill of winter has already set in and I'm convinced it's bitten in to my hard exterior and somehow made it crust over in even harder, wound-covering fashion, with a view to making me the bitterest cow in Christendom. Or at least Prague.
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