Bank holidays mean there are no work. So my work began on Tuesday, after not three, but four blissful days with the other half and little man. I’m in luxury when I can spent four days with them, which at times can seem a little unfair. Anyways.
Tuesday, I get up, I get myself out the door as usual, I pull into the car park at 6.30 am. And that is when I realise I have left the keys to the office in my other coat. The keys that will let me get into the building and which otherwise won’t be open to me for at least another hour. Back at home, in the hall.
Idiocy. It’s rare, but it’s real, people.
So what do I do? Sit in the car and think?? Well nuts to that! Back in the car, drive home, pick up the keys, back in the car, and back into work. I make it to my desk at .650 am and turn the computer on. I turn the coffee up to Sqqqqueeeeee! And I get going. And what I wrote was an interesting little cul de sac for one of my characters about a sad little moment that I have always wondered about and am now able to write out and use, no, exploit, for my own uses.
By 8.00 am I had two thousand words down, in an interesting counterpoint to the movement of the novel so far. Managed to make it in on Thursday without clapping my hands together like a seal, and got the word count up to 26,000 or so.
All we need now is for the coffee be emptied over the machine or for the computer to blow up or for a bloody comet to hit the office and it will be the icing on the cake.
Have a good one, lads.