I've had a couple of what I call 'restless' days. You know, when even though you have plenty to do - ironing, sewing together some pieces of knitting into something serviceable, refreshing the paint on the kitchen door because some cat or other has been using it to practise their sculpting skills on - you just can't settle to the task because...well, if I knew the answer then the aforesaid tasks would be done, wouldn't they?
And I'm nursing a slight cold, too, which hasn't helped with the restlessness because I am not good at tolerating unwellness and my instinct is to run away from (or at least walk very fast) bunged up noses, tickly coughing and swollen left side tonsil.
Yesterday was the worst of the restless days. I did a bit of hoovering, I stared at the rain. I read the instructions for the boiler, even though it has been installed for several weeks now. Well, better late than never. And I wrote a blog.
And I watched 'A Gert Lush Christmas' on i-player (yes, using the Magic Fire Stick!) which was something I wanted to watch when it was actually on but it probably clashed with something else, most likely sleep.
And then the blog post elicited a comment which, in conjunction with a bit of dialogue between two characters in the TV programme, formed a piece of pertinent serendipity which ended the restless day at once.
You see, in the TV programme there was a little boy, aged about 6, who wanted to be a magician. But every magic trick he tried to perform for his family went wrong, and off he would stomp in a disappointed small person's tantrum. And he wanted to give up because everyone kept laughing at him and he thought he would never achieve his dream of being a great magician because, in his eyes, he was rubbish at doing tricks.
His Nannie sat on the stairs with him. She asked him if he loved doing magic tricks. He said he did. And, basically, she said he should never give up doing something he loved just because things went wrong. And he should definitely not give up just because of what other people thought or said or did. 'When you find something you love, you should carry on doing it,' she said.
Follow your passion and your dream.
Well! That's me and writing, isn't it? Yes, I know I do write - this blog is 8 years old this year - but I had sort of given up writing in what you might call a 'professional' way i.e in a way that showed my passion and dream is to be a writer. My writer's mindset had drifted off-course. Writing had become a 'take it or leave it' hobby.
But, of course, it is more than a hobby. I had forgotten those days when writing was the first thing I thought of when I woke in the mornings. Those days when I'd sit in a café and people-watch, jotting down ideas in the notebook I ALWAYS carried with me. Nights when I woke with an idea and that idea went straight into my bedside notebook. Oh, I could go on, but I shan't because you know what I mean. It might not be writing for you, your passion or dream, but I bet there is some equivalent. Isn't there?
So, when I got up this morning, it became very important that I replace my poor old chuggy desktop computer (circa 2009) with a natty little netbook laptop do-dah thingy, which I have duly done. It is on the counter in the kitchen at this very moment charging its virgin battery for the first time in readiness for the continuing adventures of 'Night Owls,' the NaNoWriMo novel I wrote in 2014. And I have spent some of this very wet and windy afternoon re-reading the aforesaid 'Night Owls' and thinking, actually, it was okay, wasn't it? Needs some editing and expanding but it was readable, and certainly a lot more readable than the dire piece of chicklit I bought last week in the Waterstones sale for £3 which was actually published by a proper publishers, heaven knows why.
2016? The Year of the Restless Writer!
(And thanks, Olly. You know why! x)