All this week I have wanted to work on the novel, and so far each night I have done nothing more taxing than dinner and a light snooze in front of the television. I turn on the computer, load up Word, look at it for a second and wander off. The only time I seem to be all keen and raring to go is when I know I should be hitting the sack instead (around 10pm).
I always get more inspired creatively at night, I have no idea why – it must be that feeling of encroaching darkness, of nestling in. Maybe I need a sense of security to leave me free to use my imagination and fly away… or maybe I just like the idea that it’s late and although I could, I can’t. Hmm… need to work on that I think. Still all is preceding semi on track, I just need to crack on with it!
This weekend is London’s Open House, and like a berk I haven’t booked anywhere this year – which is so silly as everywhere gets rammed solid unless you book. So on Saturday me and good friend R are going to take our chances and see where we get – I fancy nosing around the old Daily Express office in Fleet Street, or perhaps somewhere around Westminster like the Foreign Office. I really wanted to get into one of the Gentlemen’s Clubs (I’m nosy, alright?) but all fully booked, sadly. Such a shame, I wanted to waltz around and see what life is like in one of these 'men only' clubs! Such an imagination I have!
I also want to get one of those pay-as-you-go ‘access to the Internet’ card dongly things. It’s horrible being off-line at home! I need to be able to update this from there – not here where I am always conscious of someone spotting me, even though I leave time at lunch for this sort of thing. Still… *quick look around, presses publish*
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