... instead of writing lectures. I can convince myself that I'm being productive. After all, I'm writing something.
Another daft day. This time I went to a workshop. You don't need to hear the details. Here's a message to those who gave talks during the day: Read through your notes before you stand up. (There's more but I'm learning when to stop.)
Now, on to more important things. Should I write a short story for the Scarlet Stiletto Award? I started one last year but chickened out before I got very far. (I am a coward at heart. I also seem to be losing all hand-eye co-ordination, but that's irrelevant. Forget I even mentioned it.)
I could head off down to the coast and spend a couple of days of solitude in Apollo Bay with the computer, the story outline and a suitcase crammed with chocolate.
After I do all the other stuff on my list.
