Happy twelvemonth, ya fuck-plants!
2008 has been a mixed year, but I hadn't realised until today that it was an extra, extra long one. Not only a leap year, but with a leap second tacked on the end.
This time of year always feels as though it has skipped between the cracks and outside the rules, and it's nice to have it confirmed by science. I almost always estimate the time in five minute chunks because I loathe the pedantry of folk who seem to believe they have some god-given hot-line to the atomic clock because they've worked out how to operate Teletext. It's up there (in that space where people put things they reckon are worth gathering together to make a point) with people who believe they have the only correct interpretation of the Word of God. I can picture Martin Luther hammering his digital watch to the door of the Wittenberg post office, or whatever. It's a margin of error - get over it, numb nuts.
Having been off work, in fact having no work to be off, since 6th December, this period has no obvious endpoint, which seems nice. But once the shiny new year begins the long blunting process on the 5th, once the three wise men come round and tell me to take down my lovely decorations, I will be pretty fidgety. The comforting contact of Xmasses Past will dissolve into penniless relentless Now. The future smells a little non-committal, like the tingling scent of snowfall-to-come.
Until then, I'll keep fannying around with my CV.
Your pal, Coc x