I had a night out last night. Both dinner and a show (planned) and a break from blogging (unplanned). Basically I ended up sleeping on the job. Literally. And I got caught. Wicked. Because that means people are actually reading my stuff!
I saw a bad panto that was made better for being followed by dinner with friends. I had a glass of wine. It was lovely. It hurt my head. Lesson: Don’t kid yourself into thinking that Pinot Grigio will further your creativity when you’ve been largely abstinent for the better part of 18 months. It ain’t gonna happen. But it tasted good!
My consequently slow morning was made significantly better by a hot sugary concoction from a certain favourite coffee shop (not getting paid for product placement… yet). Followed by a morning out with some lovely mummies and babes.
So, beverages and friends basically made both my evening and my day. Greater credit given to the friends, of course. After all, even the best cocktail can’t make you like your enemies. Not that I have many of those, but metaphorically speaking. Then again, I’d be lying if I said the gremlins hadn’t raised their little heads again. They’re not my enemies but they sure aren’t my BFF’s either.
‘You missed a post last night’, they’re saying. ‘So now you’re out of your creative flow. You’ve failed, haven’t you?’ Pesky little buggers. I know none of this is true but man, they make it sound so convincing. Great at cranking up the guilt. It’s tempting to listen; even if you know it’s all a load of poppycock. Codswallop even. Someone said the other day that it’s all about progress, not perfection. I like that. That someone wasn’t a gremlin, of course.
So gremlins, go on – take a night off. Really, you deserve it. Have a glass of wine. And go bother somebody else in the morning. I’ll be busy being fabulous.