Writing
I’m being paid to write today. No, seriously. I can’t believe it either. I’ve been handed the reins of the company website - I’m writing content that will land on the front page over the next few weeks.
You know the weird thing? When I’m writing for myself, it’s fun. I’ve now discovered that when I’m writing to order, it’s not so much fun. I have to stay “on topic”, remain professional, objective, and all those other fancy words.
A close friend is a fantastic script-writer. I don’t know how she does it. While walking back from town together at the weekend I asked after the projects she’s working on, and she listed screenplay after screenplay. And here’s me - noodling around with maybe possibly starting to writing a novel at some point (I still haven’t).
I really should knuckle down and start writing something - otherwise I’ll just be one of those people you get introduced to at a party that rambles on about the novel they never wrote.
Anyway.
Lunchtime just happened. I ate leftovers from the fridge. I should really go for a walk - stretch my legs - but I’m writing this instead. I really need to start running again. My fitness is probably worse now than it has ever been.
I need to stop thinking in terms of “maybe”, “should” and “probably”. I saw a smile at the party on Friday night that reminded me what it is to live in the moment - and to share a moment.
Maybe I need to be a little bit more brave.
I wrote maybe again, didn’t I.