I’ve booked today off work as we’ve had Fringe show rehearsals all week and I knew by today I wouldn’t be fit for anything. Or at least, anything that can’t be done while I’m sitting at the computer in my dressing-gown and watching a mad squirrel teasing the cats in the garden – which now looks very slightly less like a rain-forest than it did the last time I mentioned it.
As usual I have huge plans for today. I’ll get completely organised with everything. I’ll arrange for someone to come and fix the oven, which hasn’t functioned for some time, something I see as nature’s way of making me overcome my irrational fear of microwave cooking. I’ll finish my edits on one novel and start tidying up the next one. I’ll go shopping, which now includes buying bread, cake, ham etc as props for the show – the characters in the play have been eating better than me this past week. I’ll ring the vet to book a time to take the cats for their vaccinations, and remember that I only have two cat baskets and three cats, so I will book two separate appointments this year instead of cramming the third cat into a small basket we once used to transport a rabbit in. I’ve tried transporting two cats in one basket before, and it resulted in an unscheduled stop on the hard shoulder to intervene in a fight, and one of the cats having to travel the rest of the way in the passenger foot-well, which reduced him to a quivering wreck.
Oh yes, and I need to book a holiday for the end of this month. I am billing it as a writing retreat but I’m now frantically searching for a place to go where there are lots of distractions, so I’m not sure how much actual writing will get done. We were vaguely thinking of going to Germany but it turns out that vagueness isn’t enough when it comes to holiday bookings, so we are now considering places a bit nearer home. Somehow work trips to London and family visits to Wales have dulled my enthusiasm for long journeys, i.e. longer than an hour, so we may end up somewhere like this.