Thursday 19 July 2012

Sorry about the silence. There's no excuse, really. I would love to tell you that I've been busy, busy, busy, but actually I've been doing quite a lot of drinking coffee and wishing I were a better writer. At least the dissertation is nearly finished now, just in time for summer hols (hooray!). I have decided that Hubby is my muse. I'm not sure if muses are supposed to be small bald middle-aged soldiers; I think they're supposed to be lithe young women wafting about in diaphanous strips of silk (I could ask him to try that, but unless Ben Sherman does a line diaphanous silk t-shirts, I don't feel lucky). Anyway, he's my muse because every time I get stuck and write something rubbishy and cliched that I just can't get right, he swings in with a really great plot suggestion. I wonder whether we should do a job swop? I could harrumph about in camouflage sorting out engineering solutions and he could write a book about three young women in the army in wartime. Or maybe he should do both jobs, and I should spend my time wafting about in diaphanous silk and looking pale and interesting? Perhaps I could try that one when I sign on after the school holidays and have to give suggestions of the kinds of employment opportunities I'm looking for. The way I see it there are three choices:
1. Muse wafting in diaphanous silk (might be a slight issue with the varicose veins and cellulite with that one);
2. Bestselling and extremely rich author (unlikely to happen soon, given my current speed of output);
3. Dinner lady (smells of gravy but far greater likelihood of generating income than either of the above).
Last day of school tomorrow and then we're all off for our chavtastic holiday in Butlin's (the perfect break for a wannabe dinner lady/muse/author), yay! xxx

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