It got to about 10.30 on Monday night. I was sliding into a sound slumber when my eyes fluttered open. I thought – ‘Oh! Didn’t do the blog.’

A brief pause. A mental shrug. My eyes closed and I drifted off.

Previously… I would probably have got back out of bed and scampered downstairs to get something typed and uploaded. That panic to get it done on the day. A couple of my favourite posts of the last month emerged like that, a bit last minute, born of a sense of duty, yet completed eventually out of enjoyment.

No such misgivings yesterday. There was a momentary sensation of a betrayal of process… but that was just as quickly acknowledged and left on its shelf. It’s the kind of thing that might have had the potential to become an enduring niggle. Something to fret and worry at, probably over a few days then of not doing it, not posting, getting behind, more and more fixated on it, allowing feelings of self-disappointment to inflate. Letting a splinter work its way in.

If there had been a hangover involved, there is no question it would have become the bedrock of a spree commencing round Thursday.

Reader, there was no hangover. Although there have been plenty of trigger situations, I’ve not responded to those in a trigger happy way. The drinking thing at the moment is a faint background hiss, under the regular sounds of day to day life, ongoing preoccupations, the crackle of being busy with other things. And an improving practice of letting the little knots of worry and over-thought play themselves out.

There is a suppression of feelings that happens with drink, for all its reputation as a truth drug.  Cleaner-brained, I feel more able to observe feelings moving through and on, rather than getting panicked by them, trying to sluice them away somehow and succeeding only in getting them stuck in place.

This is, like it has been when I’ve been in this situation before, both a hoped-for outcome and a welcome surprise. And my sleep is becoming substantially better too.

Water dissolving and water removing…

Linked articles from the BBC and PLOS ONE science journal bring interesting tales from beneath the ice at Lake Vostok, Antarctica.

Which suggested a Neil Young tune:

Of course, these seemingly disparate, obscure materials could be precursors to the discovery of chilling cyclopean statues detailing nameless forms from beyond geometry…

…but let’s just go back to that ice for a second… perhaps some tonic… mmmm.

Station ident: Tuesday 9th July 2013. The Mortal Bath is liking it hot, sunny and quiet in York. May your day be merry and bright.