An empty path

Since Christmas my sole focus was the SFX Weekender and preparing my cosplay outfit with lots and lots of help from bean and many hours spent hunched over a sewing machine.  The weekender has been and gone, fun and car trouble was had and a long, long list of authors remain to be explored.  As a side note, I would just like to point out that despite they claim to cover science fiction and fantasy, most of the panels were built heavily on the science fiction side and the fantasy element was at best covered by vampires.  Not really what I would class as fantasy.  Moving on...

My calendar is empty.  My social butterfly has been firmly cocooned (not that it was ever particularly fluttery).  The number of upcoming events,  interviews, meetings, coffees, family gatherings etc is sitting at a rather empty 0.  Where do I put my focus now?  What point in the road map of life am I pointing towards?  I feel like I am adrift upon a vast calm sea in a giant leaf boat that sways me gently from side to side whilst the fishes stare at me from 100s of metres below the pea-green surface.  Heaven forbid a storm brews.  But charming allegory aside - I really do feel drifty.

I am not overly worried.  And believe me the natural state of the grasshopper is to be in a permanent state of anxiety.  The gentle tick of time and the rise and fall of the sunshine throughout the windows of the bubble assure me that hours roll by.  I potter, odd job and mooch through the day, picking up this, putting away that and suddenly realising that the heating has been off for 4 hours or so and by golly isn't it getting chilly in here?  I know that a new job should be filling me with hope and wonder but the glory of employment has thus far eluded me and I begin to imagine a life without the grind of a 9-5, perhaps a different kind of working will raise its glittery head and entice me.  I cannot believe that in this time of excess and everything you ever didn't think you needed that there isn't a small niche about the place for me.  I especially like the thought of one near the chimney where it is nice, toasty and warm and mayhap I can roast a marshmallow or three. 

Float on giant leaf upon that pea-green sea, beneath a twinkly sky as I watch to catch the falling star and find my signpost.