Stuff, like

Me, sporting the natural look

Chances are that if you’re reading this pile of pish you want to know what I’m up to these days. Merrily, not much. I’m a regular Barbara Cartland of a Kraken these days, swathed in puce chiffon while barking utter shite from my chaise longue. Short story is that the black dog of depression bit me on the arse in April 2010. Problem was that the flea-bitten bastard gnawed on me until my plot was well n truly lost, I became a psychiatric patient and I rattled with joyous amounts of medication.   

That’s when I chucked in freelance journalism.  Not an easy decision because, frankly, I was good at it. But honestly, if I had to crawl up the arse of one more fucking editor, prattle with one more PR or chase yet another late payer (you stingy shits know who you are) I was going to be even less responsible for my actions than I already was.  And I speak as someone who already takes anti-psychotics.

Now? Well, I’m almost recovered although still nicely medicated. I have my hobbies – dressmaking,  learning to play the piano, reading (I’m like an extra from Pride n Frigging Prejudice) – and may have to add blogging to that list of keep-me-off-the-street activities too. Let’s see how that last one goes though, eh?