It’s been ages since my last post. I’d like to say that being outside in the sunshine has made me less inclined to introversion but that would be a lie.

Instead, I have been incubating a plan. Or rather I’ve been trying to work out something that will help to stop me feeling so arrested. It all started a few weeks ago when, I found myself draped across the sofa in abject misery for the fifth, or maybe tenth time that week. Suddenly, a giant neon sign whirred into life inside my head and it read:


So I decided not to wait. And to make a plan to get on with my life. It was a bitter sweet moment as I drew the veil of self deception away (the thickly knit one that said I had been getting on with my life) and realised that all this waiting was making me sick, that all the Strabucks Vanilla Lattes in the world weren’t going to help me now.

It didn’t take me long to convince DH of my plan that a plan was the way forward. We did a few things then – booked a flight to LA in the Autumn where he will try and flog some work and I will scope around for work. Then I planned to take 3 months off in the Winter to write my book. Then, depending on what our LA trip reveals, we’ll move next year.

There’s the question of dealing with my boss, a pay cut and clients while I pen my work of literary fiction, then the longterm issue of leaving friends and family while we try to make it in Hollywood. But who cares, I am currently riding hide on the wave of control and I feel better than I have done in months.