In the bleak midwinter, frosty scribe made moan
My essay on waiting was unplaced in London Magazine's essay competition. Not too sore about this as I had to rush for the deadline, and having reread it lately I thought the conclusion was weak. But you have to give things your best shot at the time. Contacted my pals in Chiswick, and it seems the prospect of any more work this month has melted away due to general quietness. It seems the poos and kidneys work was just a flash in the pan. I recontacted the folks in Paddington who had offered me some work last week. I did not hear back today either. All this did was prove the requirement for steady nerves and iron discipline. I remained buoyant. Wrote to my accountant, retaining his services for the year, and sent some poems into the rejectosphere. Downloaded the updated Scrivener, as it was unsupported on Apple's updated OS. I had bought Scrivener through the App store, a schoolboy error, as the billionaires at Apple will make you pay the full price again, despite them m...