the big one
This holiday period hasn't turned out as well for me as I would've liked. Sure, there were some fine moments. I went to Tasmania, I drove up to the Central Coast, I did walks and worked in the garden, and spent time learning Bach cello suites on my bass guitar. But I've also felt distracted, and pained. I'm disappointed to admit that I've relapsed into the emotional backpack I'd once been some 15 years ago. I blame the weather, partly. Most of the time the weather has been unpredictable and murky; cloudy, coolish, still days that do not sit comfortably in the high summer of late-Dec/early-Jan, instead reflecting and refracting from the ghoulish pain that sits in the stomach and has been set free to vapourise throughout my body since putting my feet up from work for a lengthy five weeks. It all started on Christmas day. I decided to open a bottle of vodka that I won at our fab Christmas party at the Doncaster just up the road from drama school. I'd ...