When I got up yesterday morning, however, not only was it sensibly cooler than the previous week, it was also very windy and I just adore windy days, be these by the sea, in the country or in the city. Within five minutes my room smelt clean and fresh and ready to start the day and I myself felt just like that. Except I attempted a home-made coffee which, as per usual, ended up down the sink accompanied by plentiful curses.
Have I ever told you that going out for a decent cup of coffee annoys me immensely? I have three stove-top coffee makers (make that four if we include the Bialetti’s Mukka) and not one, not one, makes one half-decent cup of coffee. Still, I persist. Still, I disgust myself. Still, I try time after time. Narky and pissed off, I got into the Shaguar at 1 pm and went to Starbucks.
I spent today planning because, try as I did try, the past three weeks have been shockingly un-profitable. I have progressed at less than snail’s pace and this morning I found myself with a list of stuff that run over two pages. Odd as it sounded when I used to work as a management consultant, this morning I really did feel there is some merit in planning the plan, especially when everything is completely, for lack of a better description, out of control.
I have short stories to critique and edit, I have one proposal to finish, one 20,000-word piece to write, 300 poems to edit and turn into proofs, three writing appraisals to write and, for fuck’s sake, I’ll stop right here. And of course, July has just started and the World Cup is coming to an end. Gosh, I already miss it. There is something rather reassuring about the flock of early-stage games that fill up our screens for the first two weeks. Ah, yes, who is playing today? Now we’re down to the last four matches and then it’s over for another four years. But you know how it goes... it’s July already... in five minutes’ time it will be 2014.
