Personal Assistant Required

It's odd how my life seems to control me, instead of the other way round. This is not good, of course. My timetable has been shot to pieces in recent days, and it's not because of any profligate behaviour on my part, I assure you. In fact, I've been very well-behaved of late, honest I have. No, my problem is responsibilities. I'm a very responsible person, I'll have you know. When I agree to do something, I do it. The trouble is, I always seem to agree to do too much. I think it's because I'm such a wonderful human being, so I'm always in demand (and I hope you're not going to disagree with that, or I'll punch your lights out).

They say (whoever they are) that if you need something doing, ask a busy person. Well, cor blimey mate – I know I'm busy, but this is ridiculous! You can stop asking me now. Please, stop. Yes, yes – I know what you'll say: That it's all my fault because I can always say 'no' if I want to, but I've already told you that I'm a nice person – and nice people always try to help where they can. However, I have my own projects to attend to (I've already told you about the exciting writing festival that I'm helping to organize for next summer) and therefore, those people in my list of 'drains' (see previous blog) need to remember that. For instance, I'm meant to be learning Italian, but despite there being a daily slot in my timetable for doing that, I never get the chance. And don't even ask me how bad I feel about not getting to the gym every day – although what's the point of attaining the perfect body when I don't even have the time to show it to anyone (even if there were anyone who was remotely interested in seeing it)?

So, now is the time to take stock (again – groan, groan) and prioritize. And what of Christmas? Well, I hate the whole thing anyway and sincerely wish that as an institution, it could be abolished. I'm meant – like everyone else – to start sending out ridiculously inappropriate cheery greetings to the people I know. Given my current commitments, this is an impossible task. However, I have actually made a Christmas cake – don't ask me why I did this because I simply don't know. I don't normally begin to think about the yuletide festival until it's almost too late, so how I managed to plan far enough ahead to bake a cake eight weeks before the event is a mystery. What's more, I've been feeding said cake with brandy on a weekly basis; which is something I think one is meant to do. This week's dosage, however, struggled to seep into the fabric of the cake (despite an adequate number of holes being pierced into the surface). I think the poor thing has had too much. God knows what state it will be in when it wakes up on Christmas morning – it should definitely not attempt to start the car, that's for sure.

Anyway, while I'm rambling on here, there are chores a-plenty waiting to be done. Nobody is going to help me get these things done, so I must make a start. My timetable says: "Look for a job." Well, sod that for a game of soldiers – there just isn't time.