Please don't think I am complaining.* I love the work I'm doing for Nottingham Pride at the moment. I'm enjoying being back into the media whirl, sending out my finely crafted press notices, talking to jounalists and  giving out radio interviews. I'm hounding celebrities for prizes and gifts and donations, going to meetings, giving suggestions and generally running a tight campaign.  But the down side of it means that my usual hedonistic round of pleasure and London has been regretfully put aside. My diary is squeezed and complaining of exhaustion - and not in the usual way either.

Today - as most days recently - I  am cramped over the laptop on the sofa, ignoring the blandishments of Mad Frankie to go out and play at squirrel-hunting (they appear to be playing 'chicken' with him on the garden fence this week) and - with much regret and sulking - I have  had to turn down the chance of a  lovely literary day in London today. Lunch, a private showing, and the possibility of an evening in town.

 I'd better get my reward in heaven 'cos I sure as hell won't even get a snog of out this lot..... 

*Well maybe just a tiny, tiny kvetch..