This is going to be another of those "I'm going to get back into writing -- yes, really!" posts. I know I've lapsed into a lamentable TV habit and am showing dangerous signs of MasterChef addiction, but all I need is an immersion weekend . . .
OK, I probably need more than that. I probably need to throw a brick through the TV -- or, better, use the new PVR (hard disk recorder) to record the things I actually want to watch, rather than sitting like a sloth in front of the idiot box for hours on end. I am the idiot.
So, I now have a plan. And while I'm at it, I need to figure out a new exercise regime as well. Can't walk to work anymore, and it's impractical to continue at Contours Balaclava, so what am I to do?
This is me at a crossroads. I feel like I've turned into a completely different person and I have to go find the me that writes every evening and thinks about her characters all day, every day. I seem to recall I was a writer once.
What were their names, again . . .?
(And why does MasterChef have to be on EVERY night?!)