I don't mean to alarm you, but, there is hair growing on my soup. Lush, thick, scary hair. Just a week ago it was green pea soup, and now it is hair soup, and possibly evil. I want to clean the pan, I really do, but I fear the mould might try to murder me in my sleep. If it does, avenge me. And if someone could say some really nice things about me at my funeral that would be great. Make me look good (lie!).
I guess I haven't been blogging much lately, but it's for a good cause. Over the last couple of weeks, my independant writing career has really taken off, and my biggest contract is a semi-permanent gig with a copy writing agency, run by a really cool and smart lady who I've tricked into becoming my mentor of sorts. So career wise things are definitely looking up.
As for my health; after surviving a killer flu (which felt like the plague) I am once again feeling fat and happy, and thanking the non existent gods that the hockey season has started again. I might have caught a ball with my face (what else is new), resulting in two weeks of looking like Chris Brown's girlfriend, but people have stopped staring at me on the subway so my black eye must have sufficiently faded. It did make for an excellent costume at Carnaval which I attended as a boxer, and where I had a blast!
So consider this my glorious return to the internet. Or not.