Looking Down the Barrel of the Weekend

Crapola.

Has it really been that long since my last post? Time flies when you're beating yourself up about not writing.

I'm having a quiet little celebration all to myself this Friday eve (yeah, I know. But it's been a hard week.) The Novel Racers have allowed me to join them - by the skin of my teeth! Chuffed. I think I'm to be formally introduced tomorrow, so anyone reading this before then has the scoop...

This week the day job has been hard, the writing inconsistent and my mood variously altered by my current tipple of Green Rum and Panda Juice and conversations with the Inland Revenue. I'm craving both chocolate and cigarettes - neither of which agree with me - and fighting the urge to lose myself in the archives of Miss Snark. Don't go there unless you have nerves of steel.

Writing a play. Today I spent several hours in a room with professional actors speaking my words. How utterly amazing, you might think. But no. All I could think of was how I could speak the words infinitely better - once an actor, always a bloody actor. And also thinking about how many weeks of steamed vegetables I'd have to endure to get a figure like the lead actress. Ah, me.

Anyway, it's been a toughie and there's no sense coming out of this babe tonight. Just thought I'd check in to say that if you're stopping by, please continue to do so. There'll be something vaguely on-topic very shortly; in the meantime, have a Panda Juice on me.

PS. Hugely honorable mention goes to Dansi for actually name-checking this blog on her site (so young! so talented! AND a size 10 apparently. We should all hate you). I owe ya, hon.