Right, that's enough procrastinating. Time to work...after this blog post

It's Friday night.
It's 10 PM.
At night. On a Friday.

And I'm at my desk. Not still, but again.

See, the thing is this. I've spent 26 hours at my desk this week. And my biggest accomplishment of the week was that I hoovered the stairs, and I used the attachment with the little brush, and the flat one. And I emptied the bag.
Not that it needed emptying, but I did it anyway.

It's not writer's block - I can hear the words, I can even get them written down. And that's the problem. It all seems so dull. It all seems so pointless.

Basically it all seems a bit crap.

So my new approach is to eschew the pleasures of an early night and get back to it first thing in the morning, and instead I'm going to embrace the pleasures of some whiskey, on the rocks, and write something.

And it might be shit, but I don't care. Right now I'm envying the day last week when I wrote 3700 words and pretty soon realised it was for a scene I didn't need. But at least I'd written something.

Or I might get drunk and post to facebook.