Whatever it is it didn't stop me disposing of the house's Christmas excesses yesterday. I love Christmas and all that goes with it, but the minute January comes I want rid of the clutter. All the holly, ivy, cards and baubles have been removed, the chalk tree has been erased (you should have seen the dust it created!), and suddenly the house looks positively monastic. Lovely.
Continuing with that feeling of brusque efficiency today I have been getting on with work: I submitted a poem to Versal (my very first submission, it had to happen), the only lit mag that never fails to make me feel the way Vogue used to when I was young enough to think I could wear everything in it (and would, had I the money).
I also filled out the forms for the council's learning development department I've had on my desk for weeks. Ugh. The workshops I am to 'facilitate' for them begin on Thursday. I can't remember if I told you they can't afford to pay me, but they can pay expenses, so I'm kind of thinking of it as 'experience' and fun. It's only two hours once a fortnight, so it was hardly going to keep me in firewood anyway. I am now hoping that I will be able to eat something before I have to introduce myself, and the course, to a bunch of total strangers, if only because my breath is terrible.