After last week’s frantic juggling with not one, but two couches, I intended this week to be rather more peaceful. Maybe I could catch up with some writing?
The garden was happy, as I had cut the grass the week before. The hedge could do with a bit of a trim, but as there was still a bloody great couch in the way, that would have to wait. I did manage to spend a lovely relaxing afternoon repotting some of my bonsai, so they were happy too.
What followed was a week of odds and sods, some writing and more updating of Anita’s book Simple, which was written way back in 1992. It needed a full edit as I was amazed by how much better I edit these days, thanks mainly to Grammarly I think.
I tried to come up with a new cover for Simple, but inspiration seemed to be in short supply.
I am almost half way through PayBack, my WIP and already I know that the edit for this one will be a killer, as I think I may have over complicated it. There is a small mountain of notes and amendments already.
Somewhere along the way, there has been a noticeable change in my thinking this week. I have been worrying less for a start, about everything. If I don’t manage to get every little job done by the end of the day, I am strangely not annoyed. I have always been my own worst enemy, but lately, I find myself thinking, oh well, and moving on. I mean, what does it matter if something isn’t done today? No one will be rapping my knuckles, and that old guilty feeling seems to have taken a walk and I won’t miss it.
It could be something to do with my age, and the imminent arrival of being unable to do all the things I used to do. My eyesight doesn’t help. It has deteriorated to the point where I must take frequent breaks from reading and the TV.
Hopefully, I will have some news about the cataract removal soon…