WHEN YOU'RE SMILING...
I woke up in a remarkably good mood today. Maybe because the sun was shining. Maybe because I've just discovered the joys of playing a C# diminished arpeggio over an A7. Maybe because I'll never have to worry about money again because I've just won a fortune on the lottery. (I h
aven't really, obviously, but I though that if I mention it now, fate may smile on me, and I can have the joy of saying to people tomorrow, "You'll never believe it but, as a joke, I mentioned in my blog that I'd won the lottery, and then I woke up this morning and…"
I promise to spend my tenner wisely. (Now that's put the mockers on it.)
In truth I've got no really good reason for being cheerful, given that the phone hasn't rung for two days, and the only bit of work on the horizon was put on hold yesterday. But there's no point in being miserable. After all, today's snooker day - and I missed the last three weeks due to work rearing its ugly head.
So I'll be (not) potting reds today, instead of not playing guitar or not getting on with the writing projects I've promised myself I'll finish while I'm lucky enough to have the time.
I managed to not do any of these things yesterday evening, because the thought of
As I said to Sid, my new writing partner this morning, it's not like me at all.
Actually Sid isn't exactly a new partner, he's merely been brought out of retirement. I bought him for Suzy in an auction in the pub, well before we had kids, and during my last bout of freelance (lack of) employment, he was pressed into action to replace the art director I got so used to having at my side. He gives me someone to talk to. To bounce ideas off. To share a joke with. I don't know what I'd do without him, to be honest.
I'd probably end up talking to myself.
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