All the things I do instead of writing…
I am 40. It is raining. I have no car keys (long story), and I am too pregnant to walk more than half a mile each way. The shops I want to go and hang out in, like some bored teenager, are 1.5 miles away. So I'm listening to Smooth Radio, which right now features... Continue Reading →
We are sitting on the 6.53 train, slightly later than planned, on a Monday morning. It is forecast to rain all week. The world is hurtling towards mutual destruction. We don't spend enough time with the kids. We never have enough time to feel on top of our chores. My job is too hard. Boo... Continue Reading →
In an effort to feel like I'm doing something with the acres of time at my disposal, I entered a whole slew of 10km runs at the beginning of the year, and a half marathon in September. Running is in some ways quite an irritating activity, mainly because of the way other people view it.... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 