A good word is ‘insular’. As in ‘insulation’, the property which separates and protects something from its surroundings. The essence of the word is separation, disconnection, and comfort. Warm, insulated roofing. Tearing off layers of asbestos as you admit to yourself that everyone has a story to tell. 

Here, by the heater on another Friday morning, I have what I want. I am employed, but not 9-5. I negotiate deals on events, teach English in the evenings and chase various other small, infrequent video production, feature writing and creative jobs. I’m insulated. I have a lovely family and partner. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I announced to 5 people at the show last night, “Due to multiple technical failures, I am unable to complete my set.” That was that. Today I feel stung by failure, but able to continue. If I give myself this warm day of storytelling. I’ll make something of it, goes the story. The moral is that hard work pays off, and that’s how I’d prefer it to end. Stick to the script. 

Strange mood. Insulated.


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