Busy busy on holiday

See what happens? I make these wild statements of finshing Thirty Days of Truth before the end of November and then, suddenly, it's the 19th and I've been busybusybusy (on holiday) going to wonderful galleries with high ceilings and white walls and beautiful photos; having lunch at a friend's hole-in-the-wall restaurant filled with happy people and healthy food and love; wandering around the city seeing the throb of life there; popping in to the Reserve Bank; walking the fan walk to my beloved stadium, a sea of yellow people, to watch Bafana Bafana against the USA (I saw the president!); being sad at the arrival of the period of a wanting-to-be-pregnant friend; celebrating the birthday of another friend in a Cuban bar full of people talking and laughing and smoking cigars.

And writing, writing, for my course. But now, I am going to write, write for me. This weekend will be filled with TDoT's - truth spouting left, right and centre. Because I want to be back with writing about what's going on in my life. The people I saw, the conversations I had. But first, let me get through the self-inflicted therapy of TDoT.