Dear Diary,
I started the seventh entry of ‘A Dose of the Dreaded Diary’, and had to park it. A few hours later, it was restarted only to be put on hold again. The inconsistent approach to the latest chapter of ‘Dear Diary’ is consistent with what week, commencing the 12th of February, has been playing at. A full account, surrounding the difficulties of these past seven days, is given in the Week’s Round-Up. Buckle up.
Things are bad when I drink on a school night….
The Week’s Round-Up
Are I not happy this week is over?! Hell yes!
Work was challenging – no, let us be honest: it was horrific – to the point where I was emotionally and mentally exhausted. The tiredness from the relentless meeting and deadline schedule translated into little activity elsewhere, and a few missed live events that I had been looking forward to.
To top it off, I could not secure AC/DC tickets on Friday morning despite joining the queue at 10am sharp; there were already – are you sitting down? – 39326 people ahead of me! When I was able to ‘choose’ my tickets, there were no two next-to-each-other seats available in the whole of Wembley Stadium (let alone the ideal four I was after). None. In hindsight, tickets must have sold out after, I would say, forty-five minutes, namely by 10:45am. I was at the front of the queue at circa 10:52am. I kept an eye out for the next few hours but to no avail. There goes my last opportunity to see them live. Ever.
I was then late for Writing Club in the afternoon by about fifteen minutes. The worst part was that everyone was waiting for me. It was to be a Poetry-focused session, and one I had specifically requested!
My Saturday morning and early afternoon were supposed to be spent in that amazing library I told you about a couple of weeks ago. Except … I had only managed to buy a cup of coffee and two books, write the grand total of eight sentences before I had to rush back – by ‘rush’ I mean throw a laptop, charger, mouse, headphones, phone, notebook, books and a hoody in my rucksack; grab my jacket, said coffee and a big bottle of water; run to the station, which is approximately a four-minute walk from where I was, through the barriers, and up the stairs; locate the platform; and hop on the train as the man in charge raised his arm and blew his whistle in …. two minutes! – due to a long, irritating story about someone locking themselves out of the car and the house. A lesson about having two key chains could be learnt, but I resisted the urge of the ‘I told you so’ tirade. I will say no more.
Somehow, I was at my hair appointment at 2pm but the sun, which was shining while I was making my way there, had turned to rain by the time I had to walk out of the salon. With freshly done hair. I had no umbrella…
In positive news, my Creative Writing Course has started! I have completed one of the four assignments (in essence, three Exercises and a Final Assignment), with a second and a third in draft to, hopefully, be finished today. It was inspirational to read the introductions in the forum and connect with these complete strangers over the love for the written word.
The Little Things
Doughnuts on Valentine’s Day when you do not celebrate it. Your favourite doughnuts on Valentine’s Day comes to that.
An older gentleman letting you board the train first.