The new year has kicked off without the politeness to stop and allow me to catch breath. A solid dose of work as suddenly all who have been promised websites or graphical works of great wonder are suddenly determined to collect by the end of the month. Fortunately, this plan fits right in with me, pinwheeling through the days in a blaze of confused bureaucratic phonecalls followed by week nights of strange coding insights and shouts of weird syntax.
Finding time in between that to hit the winter streets and prop up bars, ranting nonsense to strangers, discussing the merits of a fine port with a learned barman and accomplishing brandy endorsed missions with old work pals. Avoiding kebab based chicanery to jump onto the last train as the doors close behind me. Whack the ipod on, pass out, head out into suburbia for the obligatory chat about Nigerian politics with the taxi driver and the promise of cheese and lucid dreams to follow.
In fact, just the right start for a man on a faltering new year’s mission, hat at a jaunty angle and spring firmly in step.