I just filled my hair with coconut oil on the advice of RocknRoll Bride. I smell completely amazing, and I’m sorry you can’t all come and smell me. The only thing stopping me from eating my own hair at this point is the fact that I think it’s one of those things, like chewing gum, that stays in your intestines for a hundred years. Also it’s quite difficult to ingest more than a strand at a time, which is very time consuming.
Covering my hair in coconut oil is but one of many things I’ve done today that was not writing fiction. I also attended an interesting conference for work (because I have a real job in addition to my fictional/journalistic witterings now – real jobs are cool), bought three new books (none of which was the one I intended to buy), read a few chapters of Life After Life in the sunshine, went for a joggle, roasted some vegetables and got spoilered for something that I don’t know what it was but I’m irrationally annoyed regardless. Seriously, who sits in the park loudly telling people the ending of a book they just read? What if total strangers sitting a few feet away pick up the next thing on their to read pile only to realize ‘oh yeah, that’s what loud park woman was talking about.’ Rude.
Having said all that, I have finally made it to my desk with intent to write – and it’s not even 10pm yet. I reckon I can get in a good hour before the siren song of my bed becomes too much to bear, and am feeling inspired by a heartening article I read last week by Nathan Filer. In it he talks about setting specific goals, one of his being to replace his mantra of ‘I want to be a writer’ with ‘I’ll write something today’.
Well, I’ve started with this short blog post – why not continue by getting out my beautiful notebook and telling it a story. Maybe one involving a fantastically talented writer who wafts through life giving off an overpowering smell of coconut.