The main task this week was to receive a parcel so that I would be able to start work, earn money and carry on with life as most people do. But life has many surprises and as it turns out, so do the post office, who decided to keep me waiting for this delivery for most of the week. Each day they would tease me with bills or junk mail promising me a better life with energy-efficient windows but I like the life I already have, I just wanted my parcel.
On the subject of windows, my girlfriend did comment the other evening ‘…wasn’t it brilliant the way the light came through the windows’, but I thought that’s what they were designed for, letting in light. And keeping out the flies. And the cold air, although I have since learned that the cold air doesn’t come into the house, it is the heat that escapes (Law of Thermodynamics). But man cannot live on cold fresh air alone, man needs bread and to earn bread man needed parcel. Where was it? The post office explained that my parcel hadn’t arrived yet because the music hadn’t stopped and it was still being passed around.
I’d just have to be patient, and wait my turn. Which meant staying at home.
So, most of the week was spent waiting and writing. I started slow at first but then managed to unblock the latent energy from the week before and finish the 5000 word piece on the dictatorial Feng Shui state (submitted); thrashed out a 1000 word story on Frost for the writing group’s competition (set aside to chill); completed a story due for publication in Spring (needs pruning) and bashed out a 200 word flash-fiction ‘One Word Challenge’ piece (entered). I was really getting into this full-time writing business, I fitted the bill perfectly – I was starving, had no money, was stuck in a garret room and getting angrier by the day, so that when a van pulled up outside the house with the radio blaring, ruining my concentration, I was ready to shout some fiendishly harsh words.
But then the music stopped.
My parcel had arrived.