Life keeps hammering me. If I were a nail, I’d be worn smooth with thin filigree edges around my head.
The flu lasted twelve days before I began to feel like writing. In the meantime, I've had to take a week off work. It cut my monthly income by a quarter. Helpfully, the bank then hit me with one of their illegal charges and I received a demand to pay more tax to Mr. Brown.
Earning a living must be easier than I make it appear. The life of the uber-celebrity is far less glamorous than you'd expect.
Spending a living is so easy that even a fool can do it. However, this fool is still prevaricating about applying for a course in creative writing. I know it’s an indulgence. Where will I get the money? Channel 4 don't fund their stars through Higher Education. I should simply sit down and write a new book.
Today, I sat down and tried to write. I wrote 1000 words but tomorrow I’ll write none. I’ve spent an hour, tonight, standing in the rain. I was waiting for an ambulance to arrive and take a close relative into hospital. These things keep happening to me.
Some people say that life is worth all the struggle, just so long as we're standing near Bill Oddie.
I'm beginning to doubt it.