Life’s been busy; I’ve been busy; I’ve had deadlines for the City’s Cape Town’s staff newsletter. Did you know there were the World Firefighters’ Games? Or that the Metro Police have a new bicycle unit?
Deadlines make me unable to read much and I find myself getting resentful of my work. It’s one of those Catch 22 situations, where I need the work but when I get it, I can think of a thousand other things I would rather be doing. Like reading and watching the tall pile of books next to my bed slowly dwindle. (They’re also on the floor next to my bed, I must admit). And when I do get round to reading, it’s 11pm in bed and I fall asleep on the third page and find the book crumpled near me in the morning, usually under a cat’s belly. You know that feeling when you are desperate to keep reading, but your eyelids prickle as though little needles are poking into them and your hand droops like an old sunflower? Everything becomes dreamy and surreal and you read the same sentence three times because the words are jumping around.
The City of Cape Town’s newsletter’s deadline has passed. My parents and sister have nearly to go back to their respective homes and then, hopefully, I can lose myself again and start slowly reducing the pile of resentful, neglected books next to my bed.