Fucking hell. You'd think there was nothing going on in my life. And yet I am plagued by what little conscience I still have. So many messages I haven't answered, or at least not properly. So many lovely people who shared my original post (and there were hundreds in the first few hours alone) I didn't thank personally. I avoid the claim that I haven't gotten around to it yet. That phrase was - and always will be - not even a lame excuse. It is at best an expression of low esteem. Or that the matter itself is not important.
But that's exactly what it is. It means an incredible amount to me how immense the support is. And I don't even mean what I was offered for the care and the care itself, just in case. The whole thing is overwhelming. My network of contacts is great, but my friends are top of se everything. I am blown away by how many highly personal, beautifully written texts have come into my inbox. Each of you deserves a personal response from me. And so I sit there and could begin each reply as you did yourself, or at least as you thought you would. That I had started writing to you some time ago. That I wanted to write you something substantial, no hackneyed platitudes, no stupid phrases. And here we are at square one, welcome back to the first paragraph.
Sincere statement, I can't manage to answer more than one or two messages a day at the moment. If that. Not if I stick to my style, anyway. But I don't want to give it up, because it's a good part of who I am. Whenever something needs to be done that is ultimately all about the end result - work - I am an advocate of effectiveness and efficiency. I live the book "The 4-Hour Week". Clear buy recommendation. I am a master at standardising tasks and making them automatable, thus monetarily multipliable. I'll say a few more words about that in one of the next posts. But as far as the things that matter in life are concerned - joie de vivre and joie de vivre - one of my longest-standing companions put it so aptly that I couldn't have put it down on paper more beautifully. That's where I savour the time. I'll quote without asking for permission first. It's also one of those messages that touched me deeply, made me happy and thrilled me. So much so that I was too cowardly to reply until now. Sorry, it will come, I promise.
Paddy, the optimist
Paddy, the packer
Paddy, the detail lover
Paddy, the extrovert
Paddy, who tells half his life story in response to a simple question
Paddy, who always wanted to give more than he took (and did)
We haven't seen each other for so many years. But people don't change. Neither do I. Shit, man, I recognise myself in every single line. And in the spirit of this quote, I'd like to start updating you more regularly on what's been going on with me since my last post. And it's been over three weeks since my last post, Sckockschwerenot. Well then, into the fray. I'll try to sort all the construction sites in my life by topic instead of following a chronology. Otherwise no one will be able to keep track. And because I tend to tell half my life story in response to a simple question, I'll just tease you today and leave it at exactly one word, just for this one, brief moment. I'll get back to you with detailed reports later. Or on the ovaries, as the case may be. But right now, there's only one thing that matters to me. It comes honestly from the bottom of my heart, even if this is about to become a fat copy & paste action. To all my supporters, helpers and carers, friends and family:
Thank you.
