I give myself some very good advice

... but I very seldom follow it.

I am SO enthused, so fired up, so happy because of the whole radio learning curve thingummy that I've found a little of my old get up and go.

Walking from one end of town to the other no longer makes me feel like I'm wearing a Victorian diving suit and lead boots, in fact I can manage it three times a day. By necessity I am also a little more organised at home, as time is limited and more needs to be done in advance. The sight of the ironing board no longer makes my soul want to shrivel back into the 'safe corner' and window to another world otherwise known as my computer desk. Steady on, I'm no saint; sight of the pile to be pressed still does that, thank you; one step at a time.

Anyone who knows me under this identity, or any other where I may have briefly hidden, knows I have rarely if ever composed a blog post in advance or given it any real thought prior to letting the words tumble (my apologies to those who understand that only too well through the multiple update alerts, as I go back in to edit glaring spelling errors.)

It's odd to look back and realise that, in theory at least, that irresponsible, unfocused side of myself which meant I could never, ever manage to find a single style or subject for this blog and stick to it, may actually be an asset for radio. The important thing in that medium seems to be the ability to go with the flow, change tack, pick another subject and run with it, come out of left field, yada yada yada. The flightiness that makes bad copy in this realm may at least mean that I never dry up behind a microphone.

I am excited to the point of silly, can you tell?*

I tried to be professional, honestly I did, and I tried once or twice to follow other people's 'successful blog' guidelines, but all that did was make me look even sillier than usual, like trying to dress a rabbit in a business suit or a frilly apron.

The best advice in the world is to be yourself. Time I listened.

*Which reminds me of the time a few months ago when I went for a very important interview with the local Vicar (the local Reverend Canon, to be precise), as one of the last two in the running for a little secretarial job. You have to believe in divine intervention, because for the first time in two or three years I forgot to take my beta blocker that morning. I took the whole interview like a scary middle-aged Powerpuff girl on speed. Roger Rabbit and Taz couldn't have kept pace as I smiled (manically, I imagine) and chattered away, taking the conversation off on crazy tangents, all at breakneck speed - I could feel it - I could even see it in my dreams for days afterward in some stoned, slow-mo way like an out of body nightmare experience, but I couldn't stop the show. There's Aspergers syndrome in the family, but also ADHD. I used to be like that all the time. *Sigh*, I'd never really looked, before.