Post Script

I have been writing all day and it is now 9pm. I barely have the energy to write any more, so this will be a short post.

This morning I awoke with a mission clear in my mind. I was going to finish the draft of the essay I have been meaning to write by the afternoon . It is an essay of 3000 words – a few pages of ideas, based on research that I have been doing for a couple of weeks, and I have an argument roughly mapped out in my mind. This would be a cinch.

To add motivation to my quest, I want to go and see the film Arrival, which is in cinemas at the moment. I did not go last week because I was supposed to be writing and read instead, but felt sure that with application I could reach far enough to of my goal to allow myself that treat.

Also my hair needs cutting. I made a mad decision a while back to grow it long and it is now driving me nuts. I should have known better. I have a history of violent impatience with my hair which has resulted in at least a couple of occasions where I have tied it in a pony tail and cut the tail off. I would not recommend this as a method for delivering a stylish haircut, but it did remove the annoyance instantly.

I am getting dangerously close to pony tail time and the weather has suddenly become very, very hot which is not helping. My hair, which I have just washed is lying like a wet sock down the side of my head and it is just as well that my fingers are occupied with typing and the scissors are safely away in a drawer somewhere. Also that I have not had anything to drink. Since April.

I dropped my husband off at work at six, walked the dogs then went back to bed until 9.30 am. After some breakfast I plugged in the laptop and started typing. The words did not flow and all the reading I have done is scattered across so many different pieces of paper I am having difficulty including them. This I think comes to the heart of my problem because I am not looking at political arguments and quoting them, I am describing history and using texts for reference. I lack polemic.

I picked my husband up from work as the heat had killed the train system and it has also left my two dogs disappointed at the shortness of the walks they have had today. I want this essay to be over. I am sick of thinking about it and sick of reading over words that I have written to feel a sense of disappointment rather then excitement.

Perhaps what I should do is to leave it for today and attack afresh tomorrow, that is what my husband has suggested, but the fiend in me – the one that cuts my hair – wants to be rid of this burdensome task, even if it means staying up till the small hours of the morning. I am like Bamber Gascoyne, I have started, so I’ll finish -or at least hopefully I will get enough text down on the page so a little artful editing and moving or paragraphs will help what is currently a dull read, shine a little more. Wish me luck, I am going to charge my iPad for half and hour, then I am going back in.


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