Kitchen table 12.20am.

I'm working late, and I expect I'll be doing a least another
2 weeks of working into the small hours.
But, you know when you're working on something good, it's ok?
You're kinda flying?

You want to make it fucking brilliant, you want to craft and polish,
re-think, pull it apart and do it again?
Loving work right now, having a lot to do (and I mean a lot of projects)
is intense, and while I'm really worried about dropping the odd ball,
right now, I feel more me and capable than I have for a while.

Work has always been there, my saviour when other things
have fucked up, and I know that sometimes I've retreated into work
rather than properly deal with stuff.

This isn't one of those times. Of course I may crash and burn any minute.
And, being the hideous, pessimistic troll I am, I have slightly clenched buttocks waiting for things to fuck up.

But suddenly, I'm like someone who found her glasses at last and can see
clearly for the first time in a long time.