Being around people who like singing and acting and dancing generally makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. I wonder about the mental health of people who have a burning urge to stand in front of other people and hear them clap. I try to avoid performing artsy types because being expected to clap makes me feel like nothing more than not clapping.
But singers and dancers and actors don’t thrust hundreds of pages of double-spaced fabrication into the hands of relative strangers then stand, panting and salivating and drooling, head on his shoulder, as they urge him to read.
Jenn: Did you like that story?
Jenn’s friend: Yes.
Jenn: Which bit did you like best? I liked the bit about the camera. I think that was a good bit. Do you think I need to research cameras a bit more?
Jenn’s friend: The camera bit was good.
Jenn: You thought it was shit, didn’t you? Was it shit?
Jenn’s friend: No.
Jenn: God, it was so shit. I’m going to delete it. Don’t try and stop me. Look, look, I’m deleting it now. There, it’s gone forever. I bet you’re glad, aren’t you? I’m glad.
Jenn’s friend: It’s only in the recycle bin.
Jenn: You think I should save it? It was that good? Wow. Maybe I’ll be able to get this one published. What do you reckon?
Jenn’s friend: zzzzz
Writing is such an arrogant thing to do. I am not so arrogant that I think I am the only person who thinks about things the way I think about them and I need to write breaking news to let every one else know. I am so arrogant because I think (I wonder) if everyone thinks exactly the same kind of things as I do but because they are too busy they don’t tell each other. Because I am lucky enough to have few interests, no hobbies, and an undemanding personal life, I can do the writing.
Also: I have lost the plug for the bath. I think little one has done it on purpose, because she doesn’t like baths. The plug of the kitchen sink fits in the bath though, and I’m not able to wash up and bath at the same time so all is well in Jennville.