I’ve promised myself that I will devour poetry and fine works of fiction in a bid to become a better writer, but the urge to watch Love Island is overwhelming. I just want to know why those girls don’t fancy Dr Alex, the only man there who possesses more than a cluster of brain cells.
Do women only care about fake tans and man packs? Or is it just the ones who go on Love Island?
It’s vacuous, it’s shallow and I love it!
I haven’t done any writing today, but I did eat the frog this morning. Not literally I might add. I planned the day last night and this morning, I tackled the task I most dreaded. Ironically, it didn’t turn out to be half as troublesome as I’d imagined it would.
There are more ticks on the to do list today, apart from the writing box. I was going to write this evening, but I am wrung out. All I am fit for is another juice and an hour with Dr Alex. I’m only human…
I am heading towards victory, one small step at a time.