Dancing in the dark

Sometimes life feels like a school dance. It's all over the place - legs and arms akimbo - and then, suddenly, click: it snaps into shape for a few seconds, and everything looks right.

I've just been offered three or four weeks of work. Enough to get me almost completely out of debt. And enough to keep my mind off the manuscript, which goes out this evening. Which means that, this time next month, I'll be debtless, free, and ready to start again. One weekend of freedom, and then a ladder out of debt and - perhaps - to a little self-respect again.

In a few seconds - probably - the dance will suddenly stop making sense. One of the dancers will fall over; a skirt will get ripped; the electrics will go; the star on the end of my wand will inexplicably come off during the final and smack another dancer in the face (this has happened before). 

But, right now, it all makes sense. Which - after so long, dancing in the dark - is a bloody good feeling.