School work, preparing for exams by dragging unfortunate year elevens into school for revision cramming, warm evenings in pub gardens all whilst the world goes apparently completely hatstand. I've been trying to finish something and check a proof all at the same time as well. It's all getting a little jumbled and my sleep patterns have gone to pot.
I do try to emerge from my writing pit, blinking in the light, to see what the world has been up to in my absence. Easter eggs would appear to be the answer.
I have facebook for writery purposes and it can be a fascinating resource for anyone whose art involves depicting human behaviour. At other times it's an eighth circle of hell where everything would appear to be normal except everyone is walking around with thought bubbles above their heads revealing their true inner feelings.
I try to be optimistic when I write, I do actually like humans, but it had got so bad that the Mango Mussolini lobbing missiles at Syria came as a blessed relief. Yep, I find the possible commencement of Armageddon less annoying than some spiteful cretins blathering on about Easter and "Christian Values" with absolutely no idea of what either of those things actually means.
But lo, what light from yonder window breaks? It is the Sun and our Lord of Des is the east.
Yes, I found Des O'Connor on Twitter.
Thank goodness boys and girls, there is something from the seventies left that we are allowed to find funny and not get a little creeped out by. God bless him, a comedian so terrified when he first started that he fainted on stage and became, according to Eric Morecambe, the only comedian who could sell advertising space on his instep. He's grafted and worked at his craft for over sixty years and lord does it show. He's eighty five now and at a stage where I anticipate being more than a little dribbly or dead. He on the other hand is doing rather well.
I am the first person to make him swear on Twitter. Bucket list item ticked right there. Only "Bollocks" but it was all for me. I admit I squealed with happiness.
He's touring a one man show and popping up on telly now and then. His reappearance is timely as I'm trying something new, just to stretch myself.
I'm trying to be funny. Without resorting to scatalogical humour, naughty words or slapstick. Just funny. I'm not by nature and it's incredibly difficult even in a short story with characters I know and love and who have made me laugh out loud as I write.You can rest assured that I will not be inflicting the results on you anytime soon.
Looking back at people like Des O'Connor, Morecambe and Wise and many other comedians of note is helpful though. Like writing, being funny is a craft that you serve an apprenticeship in for many years. You can't expect to be any good without huge amounts of hard work and practice. Even then you still may not be any good, you just have to keep plugging on, believing in yourself. Enjoying what you do.
And all the while around me the world seems to be bubbling in a frenzy of Union Jacks, Chemical Weapons, Cruise Missiles and sodding Easter Eggs. There are times when I am tempted to lean out of the window and bellow at everyone to just stop for five minutes, have a cup of tea and calm down. Some of us are trying to work.
Have a lovely Easter and have my favourite cat picture of the week.
(Soundtrack to typing: Goldberg variations, T&F in D minor and Des O'Connor)