'fun' and 'sports competition' are kind of mutually exclusive

Hi again, how was today? I spent this morning ignoring the washing up and pretending to be Gustav Flaubert. We had to write a scene from another character's point of view in Madame Bovary, and I chose Emma Bovary's mother-in-law, who doesn't get nearly enough space in the book, and by golly she was glad of the chance she got this morning - she's been waiting one hundred and fifty years to tell the world what a useless harpy her daughter-in-law is -  I wrote fifteen hundred words and then suddenly it was time to go to scary circuit training. I really didn't want to go. What I really wanted to do was go to bed for a cat nap, but I thought about my wobbly thighs and decided that I really ought to go...but then when I arrived the very nice young PTI said that we would be having a 'fun' session today as we were going to have a 'sports competition'. For me the words 'fun' and 'sports competition' are kind of mutually exclusive and a vision passed through my head of PE lessons of yore, full of fat welsh PE teachers with moustaches, shouting. So I said, "Sorry I don't want to do anything competitive - I don't want to be shouted at," and left. I went for a little run, had lunch and then a lovely sleep in my nice warm bed until school pick up time. Don't worry, on the way to school I stopped off to apologise to the nice PTI man. It's not his fault I have a competitive sports phobia, after all. Its scary Miss Davies' fault, in fact (she of the welsh ancestry, fat bottom and facial hair).
Right, I now have to read some more critiques of Madame Bovary and plan the next chapter of my book, and it's already 10pm and I still haven't washed up the supper dishes.
I have no idea what to write about. Here comes another looming deadline, a blank page, and, worse, a totally empty brain...
Right then, better get on with it! xxx