Time's a-wasting

Anyone who knows me in person will be able to tell you I do not eat well. Left to my own devices I have a tendency to eat the same thing for lunch every day, and alternate between a couple of easy meals for dinner. As in, four days of one thing, until the mince base is used up, then four days of another, likewise. Or maybe nothing, because the supermarket is all of five minutes' walk away and nothing really appeals.

So yesterday I used a recipe from my friend's mother, and chopped onions and garlic and aubergines, and prepared two different components and added spices and flavouring and made actual proper food, which may even be good (or better, at least) for me. My body counts itself lucky if it gets five a week, never mind five a day, so this is an improvement.

It took a couple of hours to prepare and cook, what with me having to double check the recipe constantly, and discovering how to chop onions and so on. And it was very tasty.

And I spent the whole time thinking "I wish I were writing". Even the time I spent eating the darn thing, I was thinking of the line I need to put into current draft of Dryden (almost finished, huzzah) to fix a potential plothole.

It's sort of nice, to be so consumed by it again, when six months ago I threw the whole lot in and swore never again. But I should probably be able to think about other stuff, like paying work or this silly proofreading exam...

This happens a lot. I feel like I'm wasting time almost all the time. And that puts unnecessary extra pressure on me, which doesn't help when I do sit down to write.

So I should probably go do that proofreading thing, since there's a time limit on that and I can feel it hovering in the back of my mind...