A writing day

Another precious day of just being able to write on the play. It is coming fast, and I find that when I'm working on a play once I get going it comes out in a big blurt. It has a very definite three-part structure which helps a lot too.  So happy to be able to work on my own things again and to have escaped from under the Nazgûl's wing of January depression and not having to think about Chad for a while. Beth cheerful about it all too -- and our first listing appeared online too.

A little before lunchtime I went off for a very gentle session in the gym, the first for ages. I am less fit that I have been for a good while, and this has to change. My thigh where I'd torn it last year gave me quite a bit of gyp. But otherwise good to be back there, even though the new owners have made the place even more soulless, and have taken away the water fountains and so on. I don't feel relaxed there yet, and my padlock does not fit the new lockers.

Wanting to look after Lorraine, home from school and pilates. Cooked for us, and made her a hot chocolate with a slug of Baileys in it. And so to bed.

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