A blog I ripped off from a mate.

I'm sat here with Dad, watching Top Gear, and musing, as I'm prone to doing from time to time.

Mostly, I'm working on a script and as usual, it's not quite working properly. I write a lot of stuff, mostly scripts these days, but with the odd story thrown in. I find when someone isn't working, I tend to have a five minute break and listen to some music or play a game of Solitare, just something small to calm me down. Sometimes it's works, sometimes it's doesn't. This is one of the latter times. So I thought I'd take a bit of a longer break and do a blog.

I was reading my mate's blog, where she talked about living out of a suitcase and I found myself agreeing with her. My old bag (before it was thrown out) always used to have what I refer to as the bare essentials: A spare T-shirt, a good book and occasionally, five pounds. While I wouldn't be able to live for very long on these, I could survive a weekend.
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She also pointed out that she doesn't feel home sick, but people sick. I'm not like that. I don't tend to get people or home sick. I get bed sick.

As soon as I leave home, it doesn't matter if I'm gone for a night, a weekend of a week, I miss my bed before anything or anyone else. That might sound bad, but I don't sleep well at the best of times (despite refusing to get out of bed before 9), but my bed is the one place I can get at least two hours uninterupted. I feel tired all the time, regardless of where I sleep, but when I'm away from my bed, I feel less like a tired human being and more like a Zombie.

Thank God for Tea and Dr Pepper.