No. of e-mails in In Box: 80
No. of bills in post: 0
No. of cheques in post: 2
Result! Whenever I return after a holiday I always feel guilty. It starts at the customs shed at Dover, driving past all those customs officers trying desperately not to catch their eye. The feeling continues on the journey home, wondering if the house is still standing and trying not to think of what horrors will be in the post and on the answermachine. I even still worry about my mother, even though she's in a nursing home in Folkestone, the next town to Dover, and we've just minutes ago popped in to visit. I am beside myself with excitement about checking e-mails, though. I suppose that's because the likelihood of any horrids isn't as great as the possiblity of chatters from friends and offers of work. This time it was all good. Plans to meet up with pals underway; some more Guardian work to do; a big hurrah welcome back from the transcript agency; my tickets for Sunday's Rolling Stones show are ready for collection, and even an e mail from an agent requesting the first 3 chapters. Speaking of which. Well I did some work, enough to know there's lots to do yet. I have a notebook full of notes and plan to change the beginning yet again. I got up early this morning to start on it but the computer funked. Failed processor whatever that means. I thought it was lost forever, but thankfully thankfully did a full diagnostics or whatever it's called and it's working again. The novels are backed up on floppy and have e-mailed them to myself but even so, scary.
We had a great time in France. No TV, no mobile network link, no radio, no newspapers, and, of course, no internet. Read lots: Yann Martel's Life of Pi was my favourite. All the right ingredients, laugh out loud funny, thoughtful, clever, surprising, informative. Been around for years, I know, but I take what I find in the library plus, luxury, luxury, one new paperback. The paperback I spent my precious £7.99 on was Nirpal Singh Dhaliwal's Tourism. I thought he might be like a new Martin Amis, I like his column in the Evening Standard, but was disappointed.
Bye bye, thanks for visiting, come again soon.