On the eve of the new year, I was excitedly preparing for a rush of productivity and the turning-over of several new leaves, when I was suddenly struck down with a rather crippling case of flu. The exact same flu that I had been mercilessly calling 'Man-flu' whilst my poor, suffering father languished in bed dreaming of a sympathetic daughter.
During the subsequent few days in which I was the one stuck in bed, I thought a lot about my plans for the year and my mind started to boggle slightly (a much underused phrase). I have thousands of thoughts whizzing round my head at the best of times, but what with a dissertation and a third of a textbook to write, not to mention the entire score for Mozart's Requiem to learn in six weeks, I think my mind might need a bit of an outlet. Too old to have a secret diary with a pink key and rather too young to write memoirs on an antique typewriter (although that might be fun), I settled on the idea of writing a blog. It is difficult to know at this stage whether I have anything going on in my life that is worth reading about, but we shall see.
For now, Happy New Year! Naomi. Xx