There's always something

Just sitting on the coach back up to London from Dorset having popped home for the day to pick up a few essential items that I really didn't want to put the post, such as my passport, and to do a few things that I couldn't get done remotely, like fix my VNC server (thanks Snowchyld). I'd been putting together a list of things to remember for the last few days and made very sure to check each item off, but of course it's not until I actually got on the coach for the return journey that I remembered the one thing I'd forgotten – my USB cable for my iPod. Typical.
Still, it was really nice to see Fflwff again and to remind her who I am. Not that she misses me, I'm sure, being a happily spoilt animal, but too much time without feline contact is bad for my wellbeing.
Things are still insanely busy at the moment, but it's looking like my diary clears right up just in time for Christmas. Apart from some outstanding work for an old client who needs their website updating at some juncture, which will see me working throughout the holidays. Instead of taking a few days off over Christmas, I am taking four days mid-December, but more of that another time.
I was gonna do some work on a feature I am writing for Design In-Flight on the coach, but frankly my brain has melted and is dripping out through my nostrils as I type. It's making a real mess on my trackpad, I can tell you. Just so much data being stored and juggled in my head right now that I feel even a full and complete brain dump wouldn't exorcise it.
The upside of being so busy is that much of my time is spend in meetings and having lunch with a whole host of interesting people. This week is particularly insane – I think Sunday will be my first untouched day, and even that is subject to lunch with a friend who still has yet to recieve last year's Christmas present from me. (Yes, I am that crap.)
I am also now sleeping like a log (stolen joke: “outside and covered in moss”), but that's probably because I have been amassing a sleep debt that would rival the third world. Even the freigh-trains which thunder past the house like a very big herd of very angry elephants don't wake me anymore, although I still swear that some nights I wake to flashing lights coming in through the curtains. That would be the greys, I suppose, observing me.
The downside is that blogging has taken a back seat, and I fear I may be at serious risk of repeating myself because I forget what I've already said.
The downside is that blogging has taken a back seat, and I fear I may be at serious risk of repeating myself because I forget what I've already said. Arf arf.
I need a clone. Maybe then I can do everything I want to get done.
Flogging off the Clwb Malu Cachu t-shirts cheap, by the way. Please buy one. Or two. They're taking up space in my parents' loft and we'd like to get rid of the buggers. Nice t-shirts, good quality, and don't worry if you don't speak Welsh. The slogans are all ubercool. Take my word for it.
I need to sleep more, but I've turned back into that adrenaline-fueld manic up-till-all-hours person that seems to cope perfectly well on only 5 hours a night. In other words, I'm turning into Kevin Marks. He never sleeps, as far as I can tell. Either that, or he has a clone. I wouldn't put it past him.
So yeah. I've entirely lost sight of what the hell this post was supposed to be conveying, or, in fact, what the point of Chocolate and Vodka really is.
Oh, one thing it's not is a source of images for idiotic twats to deep link to on their The Rasmus messageboards. I mean, ok, it's only one image, but it was loaded over 600 times in a day, and I'm buggered if I'm going to let someone hammer my bandwidth like that. Gits. So the pitcture of Robert Smith is missing, presumed removed, until the aforementioned inconsiderate twat goes somewhere else to find his/her sig image.
So yeah. Groovy.