I can’t tell you where today went. I am still sat here in my sweaty running gear at 6.12pm and I went for a jog at 8am. I had vowed to be enormously productive today, but what the actual f*** have I done?
These are the things I would like to have achieved today:
- Written 500 words of the novel.
- Tidied up my desk.
- Sent sharply worded pitches to publications.
- Sweet-talked a journalist into placing a client.
- Got a new client.
- Sent bank statements to my accountant who keeps begging for them.
- Bought some insect bite cream.
- Eaten a meal.
This is what I have actually done:
- Run 3 miles.
- Waited in for the washing machine repair man.
- Tried not to swear at the washing machine man (who wasn’t as hot as the last one) when he said he couldn’t fix it for 10 whole days!
- Felt thankful that I don’t have to carry my smalls to the nearest river and pummel them on a rock.
- Ordered a new washing machine.
- Been to the launderette. Told son not to be so absurd when he suggested my clothes might get nicked.
- Tried to smuggle biscuits into my supermarket trolley only to be foiled by my food Nazi son.
- Worried about somebody stealing my clothes back at the launderette.
- Thrown away a load of old cosmetics.
- Had e-mail banter with some of the people I met in Scotland last week.
- Researched LBGT publications.
- Scratched an insect bite until it bled.
- Broke an acrylic nail.
- Snacked on crisps.
- Chatted to a psychic in Waitrose – she handed me a card that said ‘Remember who you truly are’ which looked a bit pertinent to me. Who the f*** am I?
- Said f*** a lot.
- Swore I will stop swearing.
Okay, so it is not a total failure, but definitely more Bridget Jones than Angela Merkel if you ask me.
Must try f****** harder.
I am the epitome of calm.