There's no business like... ?

Welcome. I am aware that my inconsistency is tiresome. Sorry.

I'm back again, in blog form, potentially to disappear after the next few posts.

I have to say it is rather intimidating writing this now. It's ever so slightly tainted with guilt, like meeting a friend you haven't seen in a long time, under the pretence that you have been far too busy to meet sooner, when you know in the back off of your mind that you have been far too self-absorbed to make time for anyone. I also feel ever so overwhelmed by the amount I stuff I have in my head that I should write about. Where to start?

I got the job. It gives me great amusement to think I am now, professionally, an entertainer. It is slightly better than the picture I painted in previous posts (try saying that fast), though the big secret is... it's incredibly easy. I call bingo and introduce cabaret acts, no more than 4 hours work a night. The rest of my time is spent over indulging in sleep, solitude and all so precious "me-time". The down side is, because of my hours of work, I am out of sync with most of my friends and so my social life has diminished.

I have found a new love in Costa Coffee. It's where I am now. Ridiculously over-priced but so comfy and great for watching the world go by. I'm in that dilemma now where I have finished my coffee. How much longer can I leach off their internet and take up a chair without purchasing another drink?

The majority of my audiences are old people. I'm not sure how to define "old people" but I'm not going to break a sweat trying. It turn's out that they are actually not that bad. I could even go as far as saying I quite like old people. They come from another world, it's hard to explain. Their etiquette, ideals, and humour (to name just a few things) is so very different to the people I associate myself with normally. When I go to work I feel like I am immersing myself in a whole new culture. The idea of going on holiday to spend most evenings in a hotel playing bingo is so completely alien to me. I don't understand these people, I think that they realise that, but I accept them. How wonderful it would be to achieve such contentment from such simple things. They dance without inhibition or alcohol, on an otherwise empty dance-floor, I want a piece of that.

I am officially "drifting" now. There's no more master-plan. According to a wise friend of mine, this isn't a bad thing. I'm enjoying it equally as much as it terrifies me. It unnerves to see everyone else around me advancing in life, taking another step up the ladder. I'm starting to question whether it will always be like this. I don't think I mind. I am happy.