Prodigal Hooch

The thing with taking a break from writing a journal, either by choice or circumstance, is that there never seems to be a clear pause in my life in which to begin a new chapter of the story. When I think I see one, I prepare for the moment, and it's suddenly gone!

I'm really just typing this so everyone knows I'm alive, kicking (biting, scratching), and busier than the infamous blue-arsed fly. (And yes, Butterfly, I did snaffle that name -- I feel some changes coming on.)

I'm finding it really difficult at the moment to find the time, or the privacy, to be able to ponder things to write about. I'm surrounded at work, and working ridiculously long hours. I think it is going to quieten down soon, at least to a point where I can do more than work, fall into a cab, sleep, fall into a cab, work, repeat x6 per week.

So... patience? I shall return soon.