Never one for choosing the easy way out, I'm writing a novel. 1667 words a day until the end of the month. Yup, mental. So, dear blog, off you go down my list of priorities. Sorry 'bout that. Nothing personal, I just need your words elsewhere where they count.
This will be a novel where I try to be profound, but not too much, and I try to be funny, but I'm not sure how. I may even try to be satirical, but I'm really not sure how. It will be about people I know and things I know, but also not. I've a few different incoherent ideas floating around the place and 1154 words from yesterday to be getting on with. Wish me luck.
Today is a Writing Day. It is so because I do not need to go to either job today. I've a to-do list a mile long but writing sounds more fun right now. I hope to get a decent bit done despite everything.
Oh, and the builders are in en mass. Every flat in our building bar this one is having a new kitchen, bathroom and central heating. I feel left out. The stuff that's being torn out and dumped out front is the same as what we have. In the end we'll have the one flat in the worst nick and we'll be the only ones paying rent. Nice one, welfare state.
Over and out.
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