Wednesday 29th January 2020

Dear neglected, lonely Diary,

‘tis I, the houseboy, swinging by to open a belated page for the New Year. 2020 is underway. I wish any straggling pilgrims who linger here as happy a New Year as is possible in these divided and anxious times. Floods, fire, earthquakes, volcanoes and plague are rampant - and that’s the good news! Fuck knows what’s going to happen next? I say we all stock up on our favourite goodies and wait it out.

Christmas seems a long time ago now, almost like it never happened, only it did happen and I have the mental scars to prove it. Nah! I’m kidding. It was okay. Thanks to the men folk and a Bear Grylls survival guide I got through unscathed. There were skirmishes, but no actual bloodletting.

Writing wise I’m getting back on track after the Christmas recess. I wrote almost a whole paragraph this morning alone. At this speed I’ll be done by 2025, if the planet holds up, and if it doesn’t, well, at least I won’t have to suffer the embarrassment of selling only three copies (two of which will likely be returned for refunds.)

So, there you are my 2020 diary, you are no longer a virgin. I have written upon your page and will now move on and do other stuff. As per usual I will use this space to say thank you to those who have emailed. Best wishes to all, be well and if you see a coronavirus then leg it quick in the opposite direction.


 

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