A number of things have fallen by the wayside in the last two months, most notably my writing. Even my grand aim of three pages a day has met with intense and silent failure, although I do have a well-meaning aim to write 5000 on the weekend and so catchup on average.
Before christmas work was sucking most of my energy because it was so detailed yet repetitive - it required a lot of attention but not much brain power and it would get to four o'clock in the afternoon and I'd be sitting there trying to stop my head slamming onto the keyboard, even if I had been intravenously injecting coffee for six hours by then.
Now I'm onto the second half of the project - which is moving MUCH faster than I thought it would and even have the hope of delivering it by the end of next week, two weeks earlier than expected. This is also the more thought-intensive part of the project, although with far more chemistry than I'm accustomed to. Ok, so if you're a pure chemist then what I'm doing is no big deal, but I'm a BIOCHEMIST which means that you can lord your advanced chemistry knowledge over me as much as you like but I'M the one who can rant on about proteins and DNA and diseases and evolution and unpleasant bodily functions until you start to BLEED FROM THE EARS.
But the bonus is that it is so intellectually consuming at the moment that at I am working straight through the day without realising it and the oft-observed imprint of the spacebar has left my forehead. I've also required far less coffee in the last two weeks to get through that long, dark teatime of the soul, which has stopped that unpleasant old man shake I'd started to develop and I no longer leap into corners with my back raised like a shocked cat at loud noises.
Yet I find myself, come evening, even more exhausted and last night managed to stay awake a whole two and half hours after getting home. Long enough to cook roast carrot soup, answer some emails and watch Heros before I collapsed unconcious.
Yep, this weekend. 5000 words. Right.