C'mon, Kingsley!

Decided that after the general apathy of the last few weeks (some of it entirely self-indulgent, some of it due to a horrible cold-y thing that I couldn't shake off, which gave me the energy levels of a dying fly) I decided to start this week with a good old shake and dust-down.

Decided to be super-positive, and I whizzed through the day with bags of energy. Then I managed to take myself off for a not-too-shabby three mile run, followed by a bit of structural research for the novel.

The "bounce-back" attitude clearly worked: This morning I was delighted to be offered a fantastic part in a play (I've been known to tread a board or two, in my time, although its been a few years), working with a script by a writer I know personally and admire a great deal, and a wonderful director who I've worked with a few times before. I'm going to have to turn it down, sadly (reasons why will follow ~ they're non-negotiable), but just to be offered it was an amazing boost, and extremely flattering.

It's been a good week so far.

Lack of (pro)creativity

All those years of scrupulous contraception, the fearful frissons of "what if??..." following an unwise risk, the sea-shanty of nausea that sploshed around me on the occassion I took the morning after pill, the assumption that my perky wee ova were brazenly touting for the attention of any passing spermatazoa ~ I thought getting pregnant was as easy as falling on your back.

Turns out it's far far harder than that. Or at least it is for us: we know six couples who fell pregnant first time of trying, including two who were using contraception at the time too. And so I had an inkling that statistically we wouldn't be quite so lucky, that we'd be that 10-20% of couples with subfertility issues.

Not that we've been trying for years and years, like some couples~ but when you're the wrong side of 30 (and just a kick in the pants off 35) you don't want to hang around for too long.

So, this morning I had a nice chat with a lovely doctor, and she explained to me all the dignified and entirely unrevolting, stress-free procedures me and the husband can undergo if this month doesn't prove to be a winner in the baby stakes.

This pre-occupation with baby business has sapped my creativity rather a lot recently, hence my absence from blogdom, and the miniscule amount of novel progress. That, and the fact that my laptop is proving as dysfunctional as my ovaries. The man in the shop tells me I have something wrong with my motherboard.

Oh, the irony.....

Cosy sloth

Clocks have gone back, winter is chipping in, and I’ve just turned 34. And all I want to do is sleep. Is anyone else finding impossible to get into gear? Maybe it’s the lack of a decent summer, making the chilly weather all the harder to bear. And it’s odd, because I’m more of an autumnal than summer person ~ I hate being too hot, and I’m much happier in a cosy jumper and a pair of boots than a flippy sun-dress.

But so far I’m not slipping into November quite the way one would a warm bath. I want to spend every evening curled on the sofa in my jammies drinking green tea and watching Gordon Ramsey lambaste the latest “worst”kitchen he’s ever seen (seriously addicted to Kitchen Nightmares. What with that, CSI:NY and Strictly Come Dancing I may not make it out in public again till at least January.) Work has been busier than usual too, which hasn’t been helping with the “oomph” factor. I think I was born to hibernate.

Running, writing and renovations have been on the back burner. Anyone recommend any energy boosters for November slothiness?

One thing which may jolt me into alertness is a recent critique from Jacqui Bennett Writers Bureau ~ lots and lots of stuff was picked up (despite my best efforts I tend to fall down a little on the proof reading side of things ~ I’ve generally been over my pieces again and again and again, to the point where I know them by heart and I read what should be on the page rather than what actually is on the page) but I am the type who relishes criticism, the balder the better, so I’m raring to take those comments back to my other writings and trim some of the fat from them. Hearteningly the critique concluded “it is clear that you are an imaginative and talented writer.” So that’s added a little warm glow that will possibly bouy me through to the New Year.