Wrestling with Stories and Tissues

Tuesday 21.11.17

Things are difficult. I’ve fallen into the working week with less than my usual energy (which isn’t great at the best of times) and I’m coming down with a cold. Crossfit was out of the question today. Let’s focus on survival!

I had a great couple of days of brass-banding; conducting my Beginners to third place in the North Wales Competition, coming first with Seniors, and helping to support our local library with Intermediates on Sunday afternoon. Much as I loved it, it was draining to have a full-on weekend.

I’m lying in bed in my pyjamas, sipping coffee, and typing my assignment story; a story that is talking away at me constantly. Sometimes it’s in a good mood and gives me tingles up my back. Other times it yells and nags and complains, ‘Dude, why can’t you express me properly?! I’m an awesome story. Or I would be if it wasn’t for you…’

Thanks, Short Story, you’re even ruder than humans! However, if I insist on writing about heavy subjects, such as deceit, trauma, and death, then I can hardly complain if it screams at me to do it justice.

I must figure out this assignment and send it by a week on Thursday, as well as sort out all the Christmas events, despite tiredness and a blocked nose. I’m wearing headphones, because I thought they would hold my head together – but now they’re making my ears sting.

Ooh, I’ve just read a section of Short Story; some of it was in a much better frame of mind! My nose isn’t though, so I think I might just stuff tissues up my nostrils and have done with it. Right, I’m off to wrestle with deceit, trauma, and death, while looking like a walrus. Life is weird!

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