Back to work tomorrow so I made the most of my procrastination and arranged myself a little writing den. In fact, I was so keen to avoid ironing clothes and opening my work bag to see what tasks I'd left woefully undone, that I very nearly recreated my student bedroom.
I have a desk, a printer (optimistic, I'll grant you), a pouffe to park myself on and a poster; all tucked neatly between the spare bed and airing cupboard. And much like my student days, I've so far spent an hour on social networking sites trying to remember why I sat down in the first place.
But here I am.
I guess I'm thinking about resolution number 3. Write a Children's Book. To my shame I am out of practice. My writing muscle is as flaccid as, well most of my other muscles to be honest. Flaccid. What a horrible word. Reminds me of Mr Potato Head when he trades his plastic potato body with that of a tortilla; all sort of floppy and squelchy.
I haven't totally abandoned the world of children's literature however. Having a small child has given me the excuse to buy lots of picture books. It was his 3 rd birthday yesterday and I was grateful to receive some more picture books. My boyfriend made the blasphemous comment "we can throw some books out now we have new ones." What a fool.
But it did get me thinking. One day he'll turn 4, then 5. Perhaps I'll even keep him till 6, by which point he'll be wanting different books and I won't be able to justify spending the last of my wages on 32 pages of joy. Unless I can say I need them for my creative processes... studying the market... blatant attempts to pilfer ideas... What better reason to start a children's book of my own? Yes, we will have to buy more bookshelves and then find somewhere to put them. We'll get bunk beds, make a bit of floor space.
Another of my resolutions. Number 5, Get fit and toned. I should have added not stuffing my face with crap but I was trying to focus on positive life enhancers and not a list of naughties. I figure this should all happen at the same time, a symbiosis between the toning and not stuffing my face so much. Having had little experience in this field, I decided to wait till I was stuffed and could stuff no more. An indulgent two weeks of Christmas later I honestly thought I was there; ready to pour my metaphorical spirit of greed down the kitchen sink and enroll myself on the nearest 12 step program.
To test my new found steely reserve, I slowed to a mere dash through the kitchen of temptation, risking eye contact with a Ferrero Rocher. About to step over the threshold to the dining room, where a toned and healthy future waited, my perfidious arm shot out, grabbed two chocolate chip cupcakes and rammed them into my gob.
oh you are going to be the highlight of my shitty days, Woody :) x
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