January

These are white, muffled days, curled up in the flat, with blessedly little to do. The freeze is over, but the outside world is still blanketed in snow.
My fifty pages of translation for the end of the month fit neatly into five pages a day: a morning's work, even at a fairly relaxed place. The flat is small and warm with plenty to read, TV in five languages, fast internet and a piano with headphones. I go out once a day and walk about, sometimes as far as Park Woluwe, sometimes to meet friends for coffee, sometimes to Carrefour for an arbitrary series of items, added to and ticked off the shopping list as they occur to me.
In the evenings, I drink cinnamon tea, watch the BBC and try to learn about current affairs. I am making very, very slow inroads into my To-Do list. I have little concept of time and am physically incapable of punctuality.
I am being kind to myself for a few days, after three years of pushing and working and saving and worrying. There will be plenty of hard work again soon.