OK guys so for 24 hours I had to get away from London, the internet, social media, work, family, self marketing and of course this crowdfunding (CF) lark. Luckily my friend Yvonne Lyon invited me up (not up, sideways, sorry) for her birthday celebrations. Since this process started I found myself impaired in every way – writing, music, work, sewing, family life. Not to mention I am now drinking everyday and becoming one of those cliched ‘is it wine o’clock yet’ mums. I was doing so well when I went teetotal for three months from September to December last year and was even called a sober skinny bitch to my utter delight. Now not only having put on weight, I’m finding it hard to concentrate and it is wearing me out looking at the percentage everyday. It is quite crippling. I am unable to write a word and I can feel my blood pressure mounting. I am having palpitations and an attack of The Hives (urticaria, look it up. No, not the Swedish band). I decided to go to Oxford and spend a night. I deliberately did not bring a computer and kept my phone off.
Instead of getting there quickly, I was waylaid by an epic journey. It took me 1.5 hours just to get to Notting Hill Gate. District line was not running yesterday, I didn’t know, had to take 39 bus to Putney Bridge, 74 to Lillie road, Fulham, 28 from Lillie Road, Fulham to Notting Hill Gate! Complete nightmare. Meanwhile it was pouring non stop, of course it was. That is called sod’s law. Was soaked. Walked in wrong direction of Oxford Tube bus stop. Found out. Walked in correct direction. Even heavier rain. When I got to the bus stop N or whatever it was, I had missed one bus by one second. The bus driver refused to open door even though he was still there at the stop! Waited for another. Finally, got on oxford tube and in total the whole journey took 3.25 hours! During all this travel nonsense l, being soaked, did not take out phone, or book as did not want to get anything wet. There was plenty of time to reflect on life so far, so near, take deep breaths and a step back.
When I got to Oxford, my friend Yvonne and I just enjoyed ourselves like the old days, art gallery, talking, food, wine, cinema, more talking, food, wine. I wanted to savour every moment and cherish life minus wifi, social media, life that is pre CF, the vintage life (I believe I even have a hashtag for this, look on the right).
There was a time when writing the book was enough! A time when being able to cook, getting a driver’s licence, getting a degree, a mobile phone, winning pitches and jobs, getting two more degrees, and having children were enough. But after climbing these mountains, I am climbing another – the CF mountain. So now I remind myself to keep calm and Carrie Fisher. She always retains humour in any situation of adversity:
Being happy isn’t getting what you want. It’s wanting what you have.
Anyway it can’t be possibly harder than digging holes in excavation pits by hand, or numerous labour-intensive manual work, or factory work or … how about raising your own children? Which BTW I reckon is still the most demandingly profound unpaid job in the world with no formal contract and no comeback, IMHO. Would suit young people. Work guaranteed all year round. No experience or skills required. Just apply.
Rant over. Did you think this is a blog post?