I’m having trouble thinking of anything to write that isn’t about Doctor Who and Arsenal. Bear with me!

My first week of writing-free March has been relaxing enough. I’m getting used to the new routine of Raeli being at school, and Jem having 2 afternoons a week in daycare. I’ve been socialising perhaps more than I usually would on weekdays – and managing to get some housework done, too. Today I cracked (well technically my HIMYM season 3 disk 3 cracked, hence the sudden burst of needing to get DVDs off the floor) and organised our video and DVD shelves, throwing out stacks of old recorded-off-tv tapes, piles of junk paper and other detritus.

Ahhh it feels good. Tidy shelves.

I’m going to have to attack my study soon – it’s just got worse and worse in recent months, there isn’t even any floor space left! It needs to be a nursery, which means I have to completely empty it.

There’s also a certain book, long-neglected, calling to me. Bluuuuueberry. Yes, that’s right, my leisure month includes some book-editing. Recreational book-editing!

I have bought insanely expensive sports shoes this week (I was momentarily dizzied by the fact that someone was tying my shoelaces rather than the other way around and didn’t ask the price before I got to the register) and have been sticking to my resolution to be more active. Soccer with Raeli, getting the Wii reactivated (I do love me some Wii tennis) and yesterday I went for a walk in the evening, listening to CoolShite on the Tube and not slowed down by either a 5 year old daughter or a baby in a pram. It’s a good start!

I don’t have free time by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s nice to be able to go day to day with a slightly less frantic To Do list, and not having to be creative on top of all the other things I have to do. Like, for instance, spooning mush into the baby three times a day.

My reading has slipped again, though. So many books, so little time. I’m determined to read a bunch of urban fantasy because people have been coming to me for advice on the genre and I am woefully underread in it. Also, Last Short Story has been sorely neglected. Read read read!

There’s always the danger, as ever, that I will react to “holiday time” by madly overbooking myself, and having unreasonable expectations about what I can get done when, quite frankly, there are days when getting the washing up done is a major achievement. Last time I announced I had some spare time, I had a baby a week before scheduled.

Let’s not do that again, huh?

Tags: family, talking about myself