Writer's Block

So far I've done the ironing, hung out some washing, got rid of all my old magazines and watched a couple of episodes of Doctor Who, just to put off writing. I've been a bit sick of playing with words recently, to be brutally honest. My job as a proofreader put me off the English language for a while, hardly surprising when I had to deal with things like: "able to work harmoniously with glorious team work spirit" day in, day out. Still, it's all over now, and I can get my arse back into my writing seat and have a bit of fun. Speaking of writing, I'm now a paid-up writer for Shanghai Expat, in charge of writing articles and reviewing a few restaurants, expense account included. Aaah, life is good like that in some ways. In other good news I won some tickets for a comedy show recently, but had to sell them on because I was busy that night with a commercial for Nescafe. C'est la vie. It hasn't all been milk and honey though. I almost got killed the other night when a cyclist with all the self-preservation instincts of a chronically-depressed lemming cruised right in front of the taxi I was in. Scary stuff. I'm still alive, just about, but will try to remember to use my seatbelt in future. Well, until the next time I get in a cab anyway. Traffic rules here are completely different depending on whether you're a pedestrian, cyclist, motorcyclist or car driver. I have yet to decipher exactly how different, but they all have one thing in common: They all want to kill me. This is the only logical explanation, because I refuse to believe anyone could drive that poorly accidentally. Remember, just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you. I think I've been slowly going crazy over the past couple of months. My guess is it's from staying in Shanghai too long, sucking in the pollution and regularly being crushed, pushed and shoved in the underground. I desperately need to get away from it all. Xinjiang should be far enough I think. All I'll have to worry about there is getting a jihad declared on myself, nothing compared to daily life in Shanghai.