Finding excuses not to write is a very easy thing to do. And as I sometimes border on the autistic with my anal retentiveness and other obsessive compulsive disorders it’s a wonder I ever get anything completed… Take Sunday, for example. The Missus and the Boy had gone out shopping and I had the house and the afternoon all to myself. I’d finished doing the tidying up, had a bath and eaten some dinner and it was around 12noon and the whole afternoon stretched out in front of me.
So I got my laptop downstairs, found my rewrite notes for my play about Victorian prostitution and set up camp in the kitchen. But I couldn’t focus so I decided to go outside and skip for a bit to strengthen my calf muscles for boxing.
But this effort to physically exhaust myself didn’t work as an aide to concentration so I turned on the radio and started listening to the football on Radio 5 Live. As a Leeds fan I have no great interest in the Premiership but there’s something quite reassuring about listening to it on the radio rather than watching it on the telly (mainly because the pictures are better).
But it still didn’t work so I started playing Scrabble against my computer and it kept winning so I became determined to beat the bloody thing.
Scrabble is something I have recently rediscovered and I am rapidly becoming something of an addict, especially because one of my regular opponents on the social networking site Facebook is very good at it and beating him is always a sweet victory. But this time I started playing against my computer and it is a similar rivalry here…
And before I knew it the Missus and the Boy were back and it was time for tea then bed. It may have been a wasted day on the writing front but it was a lovely one in every other respect. A perfect Sunday in my opinion.
I’d almost forgotten they could be that good. Lazy days. Bless 'em...
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