AGM and WB

I haven’t got much done today.

I had to go to local Good Neighbours AGM which was followed by a lunch and entertainment. Then I called in to 2 estate agents to see if I could find one I liked. The second was so bad, didn’t even ask me to sit down, that they are already out of the running. The other one is coming round on Thursday to have a look at the house.  When I got home,  some Writers Bureau assignments had arrived and as I only have 48 hours to turn them round, I decided to work on those straightaway.

Other than that, I worked on a couple of stories from my stock pile to send to The People’s Friend, plus one that’s on its way to Fiction Feast.

Now to catch up on last night’s TV – Only Connect etc.

Back from the seaside

I came back from Scarborough yesterday having had THE BEST WEEKEND EVER. 

The weather  was brilliant. I spent time with two friends, and…….. I wrote four stories. I have no idea how good they are yet as I’ve only done the first hand–written draft, but I’m so relieved that I’ve managed to write anything as it’s been months.

While I was away I kept seeing Scarborough on the news. It’s such a shame that a lovely town should be suffering just because somebody used to live there. I hope it doesn’t put people off going.

As I walked along the seafront, I could almost feel myself getting better. The sound of waves has always soothed me.

I love ice cream. It’s my favourite comfort food. I was delighted to find so many different shops selling so many different kinds. I had a different one each day. Delicious.

Today, it’s back to work. I have  loads of emails to deal with and jobs I need to catch up on before I can even think about typing up those new stories. I sacked the estate agent this morning. I gave them so many chances to get it right but today, the wrong EPC was still on the web site. As the Exeter sale seems to be ticking along and the lady I’m buying form has also found somewhere, I need to make sure I have the best chance of selling this house too.

Winding down

No more viewings booked for the house. Is it really THIS quiet? If anybody knows, please message me. So far the estate agent has made a long list of errors and I’m already wondering if I made the wrong choice….

I’m having a better day, in fact, if it wasn’t for a nagging headache, I’d say a good day. I chopped a story by 500 words first thing as My Weekly said they might consider it if it was cut, then I sorted through my files of ideas to find some story starting points for the weekend, in case I actually mange to write any fiction. I was going to keep working – I have some Writes Bureau assignments to mark – but I’m going to have to stop. Never mind. That will give me the chance to wind down into ‘weekend away’ mode.

A sale always helps

Having a better day.

Made a sale to The People’s Friend. Also, My Weekly have asked me to cut a story from 2500 to 2000 words so that’s a possible future sale too.

Spent the afternoon with Raffy’s owner, Elizabeth. She has an amazing house, full of wonderful items, like an exotic museum only bright and airy and fascinating. She has so much talent too, makes rugs, even designed her own conservatory. 

We went for a walk with the dog, through the nearby woods. Boy was it muddy. I was a bit worried in case I fell flat on my back, but managed to stay upright (I’m going away for the weekend and a twisted ankle is not on my packing list)

Tonight, the first people came to view the house. Basically they have to decide whether to pay a bit more and have less to do, or pay less and do more work. They’re keen on gardening so fingers crossed. 

The house was looking better than it has in ages as I finally finished the paper hanging in my bedroom. I’m annoyed that it’s taken me until I want to move before I got round to it, but  that the fact that I hadn’t bothered just shows how little care I’ve been taking of the house, the garden (and  me).

I’ve almost done the packing for Scarborough. All that’s left is to sort out some story starting points, a pad and some pens so that IF I decide to start writing, I’ll have what I need.

I’ve realised that since Mum died, the things I’ve stopped doing are the things I most enjoy (listening to loud music, singing, playing the piano, painting etc etc. I always enjoyed writing stories, before I climbed on the Fiction Feast treadmill. I’m hoping I can allow myself to get back to writing the kind of stories I enjoy reading (more Woman’s Weekly than TAB). Anyway, that’s the plan and one day, soon, it will all come together. It has to because right now, I have hardly any money coming in.

Something to think about

Depressed people are very annoying.

We give them advice, we offer all kinds of suggestions, tell them to call us, or drop round, and what do they do? Nothing. 

Only that’s not true. We think thoughts. Eventually, if enough people keep showing they care, over and over and over again, we will climb out of our black pit. The trouble is, people don’t have the patience. And who can blame them? When I’m down I’m no fun. I wouldn’t want me as company so why should anybody else? It’s easy to be patient with a child or a puppy when they make the same mistakes. We know they will learn, eventually, but a grown up, that’s different. Especially when on the surface, they don’t appear to have any problems, at least, nothing major (we all have problems).

This isn’t about me. I’ve been here before. I’ll get through, somehow, given enough time. It’s about all those other people.  People you’ve thought about calling, but the last time you did, they were so down and so fed up, you came away wondering why you’d bothered. I’m just saying this. You bothered because you cared, so keep caring. Give them a call. Go and see them. Make the effort. It will be worth it. In the end.

Looking for something

I feel so b*****y stupid. For once in my life, I have the chance of some peace and to do things for me, and I can’t raise enough energy to go into town for the singing.

I’m thinking, wait for it, of joining the WI. I really need something to live for, and maybe that’s a way of finding a cause or at least feeling part of something.

Any other ideas gratefully considered.

I'm in Leeds ( I don't drive).

Sorry, nothing to say

Apologies to anyone expecting to read something even remotely interesting. I have nothing to say as I’m pretty much doing nothing.

Right now, I have zero energy and little interest in anything very much. If it doesn’t HAVE to be done, basically, I’m not doing it.

I’m hoping this horrible dead–inside feeling will lift soon, and when it does …