It's weird. I'm well paid for what I do, but I'm not utilised at all and I'm bored out of my skull. But the people and place is nice, and I'm missed when I'm away. I think I'm perceived as a substitute dictionary/girl-google/tastemaker/style doyenne if the questions I get asked on a daily basis are any yardstick.
So all in all, life's okay.
I think it's all because I pay attention to the oddest things and sometimes, miraculously, I get to use them for a quick reply to a super fuzzy query.
Isn't the brain amazing?
'Specially mine, as lately I've been seeking a happy twin for things I used to love or read or indulge in - for example, the now defunct Domino magazine. The novels of Ian Fleming and Angela Carter. Grown up clothing to fit a non size-weeny girl without looking (or feeling) like my mother. A film with a storyline, not whoopee special effects and even-toothed snub-nosed heroes. Rain clouds that deliver the payload.
I'm watching Jules et Jim and feeling very Fwench and meaningful, mon amies.
The little agents of knowledge factory are out after dark, trolling the streets and looking for trouble....So, do you 'ave rakish beret? A worn trenchcoat and a knowing smile?
I shall seek.
I need to find new pleasures in life.
Time to fly ze coop....
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