
You know how people say “If you were going to die in a year, what would you do?” to gauge what it is you should be doing in life? It doesn’t work on me. At all. I get even more confused. I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion that my horror of committing to one kind of work for the rest of my life was an embarrassing character flaw. On good days I put it down to being a Renaissance (wo)man and on the bad I despair and feel envious of more focussed souls. It’s not that I’m disorganised or lazy – I work hard at whatever I happen to be doing – I just can’t imagine working in the same field, or country, forever and ever amen.
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I’m feeling a bit of a stunned mullet this week, please excuse my not dropping in.

On Tuesday morning I was woken by F.’s phone buzzing even though I told him to please turn that thing off when we are sleeping because I don’t want to get beamed at my most vulnerable. Early morning phone activity can make a girl’s gut churn a little though. I turned my own phone on while I was washing my face and that buzzed too. More butterflies.

I confess though that I avoided looking at it until I’d made myself a cup of tea, which was a smart idea in retrospect.
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And now, for my next trick: Germknödel! I’ve had quite a bit of interest in these babies since I tweeted about making them, and rightly so; they’re rather special and I’ve never seen them outside Austria. Oh, and for those of you who’ve been moaning I make stuff you can’t pronounce, it’s gare-m-kner-dil.
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