Natalie Kane

I’ve spent a lot of time writing, but also not writing. My dissertation is over, but the applications have begun. My time is divided between recognising the need for relaxation and unwittingly falling into it. I’m just about to spend the next couple of days asking my superiors if they pretty-please will tell other people like them that I should be a person like them too. I haven’t written any fiction in a long time, unless you count my opinion as fiction, in which case I have written a lot of it. I applied for Yoga classes today and I’m laughing about them, really, my grandmother finds it hilarious. I’ve become a person who feels that embarrassing myself in public will somehow stop me from embarrassing myself in private, which is a much harder pill to swallow. I’m terrible at swallowing pills, I always get them lodged in the throat and for the rest of the day I am reminded of the pain I tried to divert, which wasn’t very serious to begin with. That sounds about as teen-aged as you can get. I have all the tools but none of the trade today.