Apart from that it has been a tiring week with little time to do much posting on this blog or indeed look at anyone else's posting - which I have missed.
After my customary aerobics session, Monday was spent writing a book proposal and a host of other little tasks like correcting proofs and housework; Tuesday I swapped aerobics for an hour on an exercise bike, finished the first draft of my proposal then I met a friend in a pub and talked until too late in the night; Wednesday I set off early for London arriving at 9.30am having gone through half the entries for Skint's short story competition on the train, then spent a frankly wonderful day in the library followed by an equally excellent party in the west end; then the next day spent another day at the British Library, tearing myself very reluctantly to catch the train back home (and the rest of Skint's competition stories) then today...somehow, today, everything has come to a halt. I went to aerobics and sent off my BAFAB to Australia then shoved some clothes into the washing machine... and all the rest of the day I seem to have just sat at this desk and accomplished precisely nothing.
How does this happen? Some days seem to be filled with useful activities and accomplishments; while on other days I just seem to exist. It frustrates me. I look around me and blame the light. Then open my diary and make a list and hope that tomorrow will be better.