I’m in the thick of a week of writing.
It’s going really well, in as much as the ideas are flowing and I feel immersed in the whole process…always a good thing.
Seeing as how this is a Phd, I’m in my second year and I’m doing it long-distance, any deadlines at the moment are largely self-imposed. I usually have a pretty tight schedule of house stuff (cooking, cleaning)/being a mother stuff (chatting, chiding, cheering)/writing/teaching/running/music, and today is no different.
So what do I do?
I wave my daughter out the door (she’s almost ten and off to a swimming lesson. Hey, this is Switzerland. The kids always go by themselves!). I sit down on the couch with the cat just for a moment as it’s been a very busy day so far and I’ve got four hours of teaching ahead of me later this afternoon.
And then… I watch Notting Hill from start to finish.
Yes, I use up two of my precious hours watching a soppy romantic comedy. I shed a tear at all the right cliches (oops…I meant moments) and I revel in the fact that it has absolutely nothing to do with literary theory, historical novels or research.
And now I feel amazingly refreshed!
I think I might have discovered something…