Yes, once again I’ve allowed my publishing habits to slip just a little bit. I’ve been otherwise occupied once more, endeavouring to finish a client project over many long days and nights…well, on weekends, because I do happen to have a day job. It’s one of those projects that just won’t die, you know, like, for a year or more. I always hate trying to spec a project when I’ve got absolutely no idea of scope, and this was one of those gigs with a scope that didn’t stop creeping.
Anyway, my birthday blew by fast enough to remove more hair from my head and leave some erosion tracks in my face. For the most part it came and went without acknowledgement, from me anyway, and the only people who really remembered were family. Having a birthday in the shadow of Valentine each year tends to make one a bit cynical about the whole “lucky in love” thing…namely because for the most part, I haven’t been—though that may change.
I’m now counting down the days to the end of my contract on the Change Program, but then again, I’ve been doing that for about eight months now, which in point of fact is longer than my original contract was supposed to be. Yesterday was the first birthday of my niece. It seems like only a couple of years ago my sister announced she was pregnant.
Tomorrow marks a year since I started my job up here. In some ways, I can hardly believe it’s been a year. In other ways, I can hardly believe it’s only been a year. The trees of Glebe Park have again begun to tint yellow as autumn slowly starts to reacquaint itself with this city. There’ve been a number of mild fogs and mists in the weeks past, and even a few mornings where the mercury dropped into single figures. In part I am dreading the return of autumn, and then winter here, not because I dislike the cold—in fact, I loved the autumn and winter here last time around, it was the summer just passed I hated.
I dread the autumn for the realisation that should winter follow, then not only will a year have passed since my arrival, but a year will have passed since my expected departure, and that’s far more depressing.