Where is Mr Motivator when you need him, huh? If I had had some dude in nasty Bermuda shorts and a bad baseball cap leap into my flat and tell me to start pumping that keyboard, then perhaps I might have got some work done this week, as well as a potential Crimewatch spot warning people of the ‘Bermuda Terror’. As it is, with no Mr Motivator, my motivation was at an all time low and I cannot quite explain it.
Was it because it really is, no word of a lie, blooming cold in here? Yes it is the heating’s fault, I try to negate it by turning on the piddly little heater and then practically hugging it all day, but this behaviour warns me that fingerless gloves and potentially looking like Steptoe’s niece could well be in my future, neither of which make me happy.
Was it because my other half was home sick for two days? Yes, it was, let me unfairly blame him, as that was a great excuse to ‘not do so much work, if any, at all’, and to instead eat chips at lunchtime and watch clever films, where I sit there and go ‘but what’s happening?’ every five minutes.
Was it because my project manager friend took me out for an end of the month pep talk and got me squiffy on wine? Yes, it was, as that meant I had to take off Thursday feeling poorly, which is no doubt the start of a nasty flu bug and not anything to do with the fact I had three glasses of red, of course not.
Or, was it because I got so bogged down searching for a 1948 song with lyrics that suit a particular bit of chapter, that I managed to spend all week pulling my hair out over it?
I think the main answer is D to be honest… still, I have gone with Frank Sinatra’s ‘My Heart Stood Still’, although it is still not quite right… I was also thinking of Doris Day’s (or Patti Page’s) Confess, You Call Everybody Darlin’ (Al Trace), Little White Lies (Dick Haymes), Rumours Are Flying (can’t remember) or Peggy Lee’s It’s A Good Day.
The only problem is none of these are quite right… maybe an earlier song… See, a scene is being played out in a garden, but music from the wireless (or gramophone) deadens the voices, so the music becomes like the soundtrack to the action… So it has to represent the scene, which is a suspected adultery on the part of the husband being spied on by the wife… Any ideas gratefully received!
Oh - and Blogger thinks I am German again for some reason... More biscuit crumbs dropped down an important keyboard somewhere?