Oh dear… it’s that time of the year again! July is almost gone, and August right around the corner, and, and, and…
And of course, family and friends are beginning to ask: when are you going to take a few days off? Where are you going? Shouldn’t you be booking somewhere nice for your days off? Why don’t you go to the seaside? Why don’t you go to the mountains? … and so on.
I’ve been rather spared until now – or at least, I’ve been able to say (quite truthfully) that I couldn’t think of going anywhere until the end of the Summer Season, what with my own three things being staged, and other people’s things I wanted to see… No, I couldn’t possibly think of going anywhere, at least not before the first week of August.
Only, now the first week of August is very nearly here, and… and.
The fact is, though, that meanwhile other things have come up – including a new commission. A small and quick thing, a one-act play to be sent in by mid-September. Besides there is always TW, and quite a few other things in the works…
So much so that I’ve even half a mind to forgo my yearly Summer Reading Week. Not that I don’t feel like readingreadingreading for a few days, or that I haven’t a small pile of books set aside for the purpose – but there is so much to do that I’m sure I would fidget all the time, itching to go back to work…
I haven’t told anyone yet. In fact, when the latest helpful soul proposed to pack me off to some village in the mountains, I murmured that yes, perhaps I could bring some work, and… It was enough to give the helpful soul the vapours. Why can’t I just take a break, enjoy the mountains, go trekking, lie in a meadow and tan…? That I don’t much like the mountains, that I positively dislike trekking, that, being fair-complexioned, I burn with ludicrous ease – all of this seems to mean very little. As with the sea, it is supposed to be good for me – hence I must not only do it, but enjoy it. Which is why, as you can imagine, I haven’t voiced yet my intentions to go without even the Reading Week. I simply don’t dare.
So, what I’ll do with the remains of the summer is unclear yet. I suppose I could make vague promises about September – but that would mean a repeat of the present situation in a month or so… it is a sad fact of life that there is no procrastination so far ahead that it won’t come and bite you in time.
And meanwhile, I’d better go back to work.