Of Being Braindrained March 7, 2008
Posted by Jen in : Journal , 19 commentsGawd. Another week gone without doing any writing. Oh dear.
My 5am writing slot has disappeared. I don’t know where it went. It used to be there but, since I started this going to work lark, it has ceased to exist. Whisked away to another dimension. Perhaps it’s in the same place as my sensible thoughts?
Evening writing slot. Ha! I have a strict timetable after work.
6pm: Stumble in from work. Look at children and grunt a bit. If I’m lucky, they will grunt back.
6.15: Pour glass of wine and put on pre-warmed pyjamas.
6.25: Cook dinner. Bang saucepans very loudly indeed and shout a lot. Turn the funny up on Radio 4 to drown out moaning of ungrateful children that pesto pasta every single night is boring.
7.00: Mumble incoherently about chicken sheds that aren’t actually chicken sheds. Realise that no one’s listening anyway. Shout at horrid children that I have to watch Emmerdale or else I may die. Drink a little bit more wine.
8.00: Get woken up and scraped off settee and patronisingly sent to bed by vile children.
Hmmm. See what I mean? In a bid for me to eat before nodding off, lovely bf is taking me for an Indian tonight. Sadly, we are going to the place where I made an exhibition of myself last time. Still, I’m sure they won’t remember me. Will they? And. This weekend, when I am fed, I will be writing. Non-stop. Non-stop rubbish, probably, but hey ho.
Since it’s Friday, have a writerly joke (stolen shamelessly from Karen’s blog)…
How many mystery writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Two: One to screw it nearly all the way and one to give it a twist at the end.
