During the past two weeks my life has been revolving once more around writing my book, "This is not a book," so I think this is what I will be filling you in on this week because I have no other life to speak of.
Due to a very hectic schedule last month I hadn't had a chance to put pen to paper so I thought when the work hours soften (as they sometimes do) I can kick start the writing intensive with a creative writing workshop, a little gift to myself.
The workshop would take place over two days and be (in my mind) the most wonderfully inspiring exploration. However things were not to go as planned...
I arrived from an early bus trip to the country side of Quebec full of a creative hunger. I found another woman who was also taking the workshop at the drop off zone and together we waited in the middle of nowhere. We chatted well past thirty minutes when both of us realized no-one had come yet. The tiny bus depot was connected to a gas service station which was then connected to an A&W (big, fat, meaty, meat-burgers) restaurant.
We decide at this point to call but would you believe I don't have a cell phone and neither does my new friend. We do on the other hand have the organizers number so using the only phone at this gas station, a short walk into the freezing winds, my friend attempts to put five dollars worth of quarters into the long distance phone. She and I both try again and again over the next few hours to get through to the cell phone but to no avail. Meanwhile, I have been secretly debating whether to buy a tube of Pringles for the entire time. I write this in a scrap book to release the angst building from these fake potato things getting the better of my judgement.
After three hours of waiting a bus comes and in short I leave to go back to Montreal. What I thought would do the trick to start writing again was not to be.
A few days later, I began back in the bedroom that had a view of a thieving squirrel looting a cat's bowl from across the street. This is where I now currently sit, on a big, blue, bouncing ball for an ergonomic sound posture, writing a minimum of 500 quality words per day. And in just two months people this baby will be screaming, giggling and pooping.
You ready for a Chinese adventure?
