Okay, this is going too far now. What's happened to the old Paul who used to spend his days writing and touring and getting into scrapes? Yeah, he was skint and anxious and single and a total mess, but I miss him, in a strange sort of way. Somehow, my little plan of teaching the odd drum lesson to pay the bills has gone too far - I'm totally grateful but the work/creative balance seems a bit lost at the moment. Yet, I remember November, when I was so very skint, I would have dreamed of these days then...that's when I became Santa in desperation for cash.
Things are good now; I'm freelancing as a teacher and earning more than I think anyone should for showing people how to drum, I've got the best girlfriend in the world, I like where I live... I just need to sort my schedule out a bit to give myself some writing time. And some sleep
Anyway, taught 5 lessons in one school today, and then 7 in another. It was good fun, though. I think that's the fear: I'm better at this than I am at the things I want to succeed at.
Lovely evening with A, we went over for dinner at Edd and Emily's (the house I lived in for 3 years), great fun.
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