-Taking a deep breath-

It's been a poor week on the novel-writing front. I've been sleeping badly, as per, and it's been a real fight to finish Buddenbrooks, a novel I haven't enjoyed. Having LB here, decorating the hall & stairs, has made me feel oddly self-conscious. Why is it that I can write in Starbucks but I can't write with a single other person in the house, who's not even remotely interested in what I'm doing? I am being a fule.

I also feel horribly disorganised on the domestic front; we now have 2 unusable washing machines crowding the kitchen, washing all over the bedroom floor, furniture in disarray due to decorating, and I haven't made any bread for ages. P put a kitchen knife through his hand last Saturday and can't play the guitar. It's all rather depressing, but -taking a deep breath- it's really no big deal and everything will be OK soon. We had a fantastic weekend in Portmeirion and we are spending next weekend in Amsterdam with G & K, who I still miss having as neighbours and I'm really looking forward to seeing them.

So Red the Rose is still pushing my buttons, and I've heard that Placebo are releasing a new album in March, so that's good. Well, it might be terrible, but the anticipation is still sweet.