Right, so here’s the thing. Due to what can only be described as a supremely far-sighted act of up-fuckery by a major telecommunications company – an act so fractally intricate in its failure that to examine in microscopic detail any portion of it would reveal an individual cell of failure every bit as complex and complete as the entire act itself – I am apparently to be without an internet connection until (at the earliest) the 23rd of January. I am also snowed in with no transport or landline.
I would characterise myself as disappointed about that.
To those wondering how I’m managing to blog about this on the internet, I would remind them of the epic proportions of my personal cunning. Despite that, my ability to handle such relatively mundane tasks as replying to backlogged emails from last year or earning a living as a professional writer will be virtually non-existent until my connection is established.
So, I have at last moved out of a two-bedroom flat in to London and into a three-bedroom building site in Ashford. It is, in every conceivable respect, a significant upgrade. We’ve been here for two weeks and so far nothing has fallen down, frozen up or caught fire. The whole thing is beyond cool.
Getting back into work mode is tricky without the internet or a phone. I’ve got artists and publishers waiting to hear from me, over a hundred vital emails to answer and enough scripts to write to keep me busy for months. I should probably get back to it while I still have this brief, flickering moment of access.
Roll on the 23rd...