I've got a new job. I work for Sharp Electronics as a soldering operative. I get to play with a 420°C soldering iron, and I put bits of solar panels together. This is far more in line with my ethics than, say, working in a stinky Wetherspoons kitchen. I wear steel toecap boots which force me to walk like a man, and everyone thinks I'm gay because of my short hair.

There are down sides. The days are 12 hours long, and I work continental shift patterns, which means 6 am to 6 pm twice and then 6 pm to 6 am twice, before having a break. I'm preparing for an evening shift now, so I haven't seen the outside world for about half a day, and am not likely to until Wednesday morning. Sometimes I get so tired I find myself remembering my dreams in very vivid ways. It's a strange feeling - I've never hallucinated knowingly in my life, but I think that it must feel a bit like this. The work boring, but we get paid quite well, and it's only for three months or so.

Besides which, we can all agree that being bored is shit. Shit is great fertiliser. I find that my mind is at its most productive and fertile when I am bored, so I have already come up with three new story concepts (varying from a very, very weird erotic piece, a radio play and a short TV script for a children's thriller).

At the end of three months, I'll have enough money to see me through the next year of my PhD, and pay for the journalism course I've signed up for.

I actually have some money now, which feels kind of weird, and good. I have a list of things I'm going to spend it on:

1: phD year 2.
2: Diploma in Print Journalism course.
3: a scuba holiday in Cornwall or Devon (or Anglesea, wreck diving).
4: a couple of days at a spa.
5: a motorbike.
6: a more powerful camera/video camera, so I can start doing wee documentaries and get my friends involved in plays.

My PhD is bowling along. I'm more than half done with the rough draft and aim to be finished by March next year, so I can concentrate on the critical piece in its entirety and leave the fiction to ferment on its own for a few months.

I went to the closing gallery auction, although I got my prints sorted out too late to actually enter them, unfortunately - although I don't really mind, because I may have found something interesting to do with them...

The artists of North Wales either have an inflated sense of their worth, or the people of North Wales are skin-flinted penny pinchers, because not many of them got past their reserve prices - and some artworks (which were worth more than that) went for about £20. I got myself a funky oil piece called 'Drippy Eggs' for its reserve price, which I'm happy with.

My mother and I also won the raffle for a dinner for two at a local restaurant, which is very funny, because the week before we went there and my mum found a pubic hair in her chips. No really.

They raised more than a grand - and a whole chunk of that will be going to Hope House Hospice.

I have been shortlisted in the top 25 poems submitted to the Science Fiction Poetry Association - so I can put that on my list of publications, which is good.

I have also been accepted as an assistant reader for Acappella Zoo [link] where I review submissions from the slush pile. It's unpaid, but quite enjoyable, and again, it's a good thing to put on my CV.

I'm not sending out submissions to magazines at the moment, mainly because I got a bit mixed up (despite having a system) and started receiving acceptances for work that had already been accepted elsewhere, which was annoying because it meant I lost out on money/exposure. So I'm hanging fire until the new year, when I can clean out my folder and start again. I'm looking at over 50 things in print, though, including the articles I wrote for the local paper.

I'm kite-flying, poiing, eating and drinking with friends and am planning on taking more photographs. I am also going on the Ladies Midnight Walk: [link] for Nightingale House Hospice, which was where my Dad spent his last few weeks as a cancer patient. I'm not fundraising for it, because the people who donated to the Amnesty Head Shave have gone above and beyond and I can't ask any more of them. I'm going to donate a lump sum, though, to match and go above the average raised by contributors.

I'm also now back on citalopram. A low dose. I think the angst is mainly about me doing shitty things that I don't want to be doing. It all got a bit on top of me that week, with work being awful, being told I couldn't go on the dole because I hadn't been on the dole last year (wait, what?), the oh-no-you-can't-join-the-therapy-group-sorry and bursary bullshit. I'm feeling a lot better now, mainly because the direction I'm going in is clearer, and I don't have to worry about money for a while, as long as I can stick this job out. And like I said, it's only for three months.

So here's to advancement!