>>>>>Killing Time<<<<<

Been feeling awful all day - some kind of nasty flu bug thing has taken a hold. Managed to leave all of my notebooks for the play on a shop counter today, which was a silly thing to do only excused by the flu bug-countering chemicals I'd taken. Thankfully, the books, which contain all kinds of nonsensical ramblings and several useful phone numbers and lots of research, were still there when I backtracked my steps. Have failed to really attack the day, today. My head feels full of mush and my knees need replacing. Despite my earlier optimism, there's still a fair bit to do on the play, although the actual writing aspect will all have to wait until Sunday night. Tomorrow, I have a meeting with Sully's best friend, which I'm really looking forward to as it will enable me to add some more colour to the script. Am expecting that the script will be pretty much over and done, from my point of view, by the early hours of Monday. By which time, draft six will be chugging out of the printer and heading, by the miracle of email, to various people. While I add the finishing touches, M, who has all manner of deadlines pinned to the wall, seems to be gripped at the other end of the writer's spectrum, facing 80-odd blank pieces of paper and getting anxious about what to fill them with. As weird as it sounds, that's actually my favourite part of the process - all the pretentions of being a writer but none of the work. That is the worst part of living with another writer, though. When one of us is flying the other is, invariably, wallowing in despair and wondering if anything will ever come. Still, this is what we're getting paid a pittance to do. We should be happy.