Not ‘still here’ as in the slogan that one of my T-Shirts bears: ‘Not Dead Yet’. Although, coincidentally, I am actually ‘not dead yet’ too.
But that wasn’t the point behind my comment.
What I meant was I am still not well enough to go back to work, my internal thermostat veers from one extreme to the other which sends me in to feverishly sweating fits whilst instructing my brain that I’m freezing my cute little bum off.
And I keep falling asleep; just sitting here trying to read Important Things, then my head goes down and I’m off to another place for a minute or two.
I have written to my agent telling him to kindly inform the publisher that she should stick her head up a dead bear’s bum because I’m not switching genders; I don’t care if more women buy books than men, that’s not the point.
I feel like shite. Health-wise I mean, not about the publisher thing.
One minute I’m hungry but before I can do anything about it I’m not interested in food at all and the thought of eating makes me feel even more unwell.Â WTF’s that all about?
Can you go out and find people who will lend us their ears? The audience of the little podcast (This Reality Podcast) that the cute (but slightly potty-mouthed) Soph and I co-present has, according to Google’s stats service, gone mental.
What we need is just less than 3,000 new listeners/subscribers/downloaders – 2,721 to be precise – because that would, unbelievably, take is over the 100,000 listeners milestone.
The podcast had a marketing push three weeks before the Cornbury Festival with a small campaign in a couple of universities. That seems to have added about 10,000 listeners, though God knows why. And our cunning strategy (not!) of walking around the Cornbury Festival with cameras and our microphone/recorder rig, interviewing random people and giving out our flashcards seems to have added just over 8,000.
Since the podcast website was redesigned the amount of web-traffic has gone through the roof (you wouldn’t believe how many people google ‘Radio 1 presenter changes’ every day!).
We’ve expanded the News and Reviews sections to be comfortable with the wider music-based world, so if you would like to write for the website just drop me/it/us a line (all roads lead to Rome, to take an old metaphor and adapt it to a 21st Century telecommunications environment).
The podcast is what accounting experts would call ‘finance neutral’. This means we pay nothing out and receive no income. Soph and I like this state of affairs and plan on keeping the Status Quo. Which reminds me that we’ve never actually played any Status Quo, despite having a PRS licence which would enable us to do so. Is not playing Status Quo a good or a bad thing? Discuss.
But the reason I mentioned money is to illustrate that because we have no income we can’t actually pay you for your time/effort if you do decide you’d like to write for us. Or if you decide you’d like to record audio to be included in the podcast. I mean you could do that as well as writing for it, we just wouldn’t be able to pay you, that’s all.
So the podcast sits there, 2,721 short of the magic 100k subscribers.
I don’t know why I said ‘magic’ because it’s not as if Hermione is going to suddenly appear in front of me and start removing her clothes, is it?
No, of course not.
Oh, sorry, I seem to have drifted off for a moment. And wandered considerably off-topic though for the life of me I can’t think what the topic was.
Health? Being not dead? The two could be one and the same anyway.
Did you know that the longest sand spit in the world is in the Baltic Sea just off Kaliningrad, and it is a fraction under 100 km long.
One hundred kilometres.
Yes, I know that there’s a website that claims that the Dungeness spit in Washington is, at a mere five miles, the world’s longest, but they were obviously going for an entry in the Guinness Book of World Records under the heading ‘how wrong can they be?’ when they wrote that nonsense.
Fascinating place, Kaliningrad.
I need to get outside. It’s stopped raining so I’ll see how I feel after a walk around the green.
Oh, and how disappointed do I feel that the big grey chap won’t be coming to live with us?