Monday, 21 January 2013

Trapped by the white stuff

I feel as though I’ve been sent to prison, trapped by the white stuff. 
The great thing about this ghastly weather is that it WILL pass, eventually. I just have to be patient. I have endless patience with other people and with dogs, but when it comes to me, the usual rules don’t apply.  
The layer of snow on the conservatory roof is acting like a blind, making the living room darker than normal. I’m finding it hard to find a suitable place to actually work. I read other writers tweets and they seem to be getting on with it, so why can’t I?
I’ve been doing an awful lot of thinking lately. For the first time in forever, I have choices, real choices. I’m seriously thinking of buying a second, cheaper property, so that I can rent it out. Writing is a precarious business especially when your main income comes from short stories (umpteen magazines have stopped taking fiction since I started out)  and it would be wonderful to have a regular, guaranteed source of income especially when interest rates mean that having money in the bank is not a great idea. 
I’ve found a two bedroomed bungalow (no loft conversion!) which looks to be a bargain – tired decorative order, old fashioned kitchen but otherwise sound. It’s also empty  and at a price I can afford so pending more blizzards, I’m going to take a look tomorrow. 
I had a long talk with John over the weekend and we've reached the conclusion that more distance between us would be best. I know that's right, neither of us will ever proeprly move on with out lives otherwise, but even thinking about is scares me rigid. I'm not sure I would have surved 2012 without his help but I also know that things are getting better for me.
John isn’t affected by the snow, so I got him to deliver the pile of paperwork to the solicitor for me this morning so now it’s fingers crossed there are no hiccoughs.I really can't wait to be moved. For the first time in I can't work out how long I'll have a dedicated office again. I had one when I first moved to Leeds but that was just for the three months I was renting before I bought this place.
I'm not sure what I'm doing now. I might look for some ideas and start some new stories, or I might look at the ones I have at the first draft stage, or sort out another drawer.......One thing I won't be doing is taking poor little Pip for a walk. It's a god job she's only here for 8 days as she's only getting one walk a day (courtesy of John) as I daren't risk a fall. I tell the dog's owners that if it's treacherous out, their dogs won't get walked so that they know, but I still feel guilty. Walking the dogs also gets me out of the house which is why I feel as though I’ve been sent to prison....

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