Christmas is a little over a week away. After that comes New Year’s Day. A few short months later and it’ll be my birthday and then there will be other little milestones to mark the passage of the year. And each one will sound like a heavy bell relegating it to the past and sounding out a future that stretches perhaps not as far as the eye can see but at least into a distant time (one hopes).

With Christmas comes the usual duties to perform, the visiting of family, the purchasing and giving of gifts and a strong desire to drink until the whole thing passes. These are the rituals that make up a Christmas, at least mine, and then I begin to get anxious about yet another year having passed.

I’m trying to not let it worry me too much. After all, these milestones are good markers, like McDonald’s and “Kangaroo Crossing” signs, that make me look up and be warned. Time is marching on…and procrastination is not your friend.

I know the act of writing this post is in itself an act of procrastination. However, I’m doing it after I’ve finished writing 1800 words and reached the 25,000 words mark in my current work in progress.

Yet, I feel uneasy.

That’s not so odd as I’m currently sick with a cold and should really be in bed but doing nothing, even when I’m sick, makes me uncomfortable and I worry about the time slipping away.

And then it does.

And then I’m paralysed with inaction.

I feel stuck. I’ve reached a certain point. I can see other parts of the story falling into place and I’m discovering new things but the 25,000 mark feels like a rest point. A spot to stop and take a breath, as much as it’ll make me cough in my current condition. Perhaps that’s why I’m sick right now. A need to stop.

Or maybe I should just get on with it and stop whining.

P.S. Who’s been to the Pergamon Museum in Berlin? Isn’t it awesome?