Time has slowed down since I left work. I can’t believe it has only been two weeks. I am eternally grateful for this existence, and this incredible opportunity. I spend my days in pubs and cafes slowly hammering away at my book. Like squeezing toothpaste out of a tube, it is slowly being born, little by little every day. I have met up with the Greenwich Writers and made a writing buddy, and today we sat in the Dial Arch for six hours tapping away at our keyboards.
Mike’s mum came for a visit and my eyes were opened once again to the beauty of this city, and this part of the city in particular. The south-east is littered with magical green spaces from where you can admire the silent, glittering lights of Canary Wharf and the City. From every angle there is something new, something surprising, and as they say, variety is the spice of life. I love being surprised, I love not knowing what’s around the corner, and I love finally having enough time and zest to go seek it out.
Work is over and I am once again a drifter – except this time with some structure and scheduling to ensure that my book will get done and not run the risk of being forgotten amidst aimless ambles through wooded estates and along quiet backstreets (come spring, at least), and spontaneous creative ventures that will pull me along but never bear fruit.
