Huston, we have touch down.

You may recall, last time we spoke, I mentioned an overdue essay I had to write.

Overdue?

Well, yes, it became that way.

I have this little problem, whereby I can only think straight when under extreme pressure. Lately, however, the line between enough pressure and too much pressure has become rather crepuscular. A little fuliginous, if you will. On one side of it, I'm not motivated enough to start and have insufficient circulating adrenalin to force the neurons to connect; on the other side I am too paralysed with terror and self-contempt that I cannot breathe properly, let alone effuse genius.

However, the Dalai Maharishi had some very helpful advice, which I am not loathe to share here: He suggested that I was a rotten little sinner, and I should stop it.

He also suggested that I pray like Paul for the Ephesians, repent like a Galatian, and also set an alarm clock. So I did. And by golly it worked! For some reason, simply asking God to show me how much he loves me, (rather than trying to convince myself of it) has taken the terror out of the whole thing.

Now, I really don't know how much of that is psychology, and how much is God being particularly nice. As the bishop said to the actress, "I don't mind, so long as it works."