Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Cap'n's Log (2)

Things would be easier if Real Life, in the form of hospital appointment, eye infections, empty fridge syndrome etc. did not get in the way of artistic endeavour. To anyone who has recently tried finding a place in a hospital car park - respect, I know what you have endured and wonder if, like me, you have gone through the barrier of one car park, been unable to find a space and then been unable to leave through the exit barrier because you have not paid. But why should you have paid if you haven't been able to park and need to look elsewhere? Not their problem. Not anyone's problem except yours. At reception you have to fill in a four-page form but pootling around in the freezing rain trying to negotiate your way back to the right department (they sent you a letter explaining how to do that but the letter never arrived - not their problem, yours), feeling like Tess of the D'Urbervilles on a particularly inclement day when Angel is nowhere and has in any case dumped you, takes its toll, makes you late and your varifocals keep steaming up. Everyone in the waiting room looks miserable, in spite of the water dispenser (which has in any case run out of plastic cups), and the copy of Literary Review lying next to the Daily Mail. And it does not make the situation any better, here in deepest mid-Sussex, to know that things are immeasurably worse in London. Just saying, because the receptionist told me that, meaning that I should be grateful and count my blessings. I do, actually. Count my blessings. But no reason to tell her that, especially as there was no toilet paper in the loo.

Anyway, back to the endeavour. Eye infection probably not helped by staring at a screen. The writing not helped by it either, so back I go to the notebook and see how the words begin to flow again, probably helped by the company of my two very trusted writing companions, one of whom is also doing Nano. We have decided to do the thing at our pace. Sufficient unto the month the dedication thereof. I will not be aiming to produce fifty thousand words. Today's output was around nine hundred, which is quite respectable.


Zhoen said...

Oh, poor dear. I'm very glad all the large hospitals I've worked in all have valet (free) for patients. Seems a perfectly obvious service to offer. Type blind, see if you can read it next week.

Isn't there a nanowrimo number for kids? That might be a good goal.

Cusp said...

Bloody hospitals. I hate then. Last time I went I found 4 of us all had same appt time and we were already still sitting there 45 minutes after we were supposed to be seen.

Hope the peepers get better soon. Don't beat yourself up too much about the words...when it's meant to be it's meant to be.

Hug (*)

Reading the Signs said...

Zhoen, how very hospitable, that kind of service would be quite unthinkable here in Blighty!

I'm about to clock in (trying to think of an army term here) - 'turning up at the page.'

Cusp, beating myself up is one of the things I'm really good at though, I could get gold stars for it (heh!). Bloody peepers - it's another auto-immune thing. Better today.

hug variation (&)

Fire Bird said...

good to have news from the outer reaches... yes, yes, do it your own way - always the best! And yes, L and I have learned from recent hospital experiences to park on a nearby (but not that nearby) sidestreet to avoid the ridiculous and pointless drive round the more than full (cars lurking in totally illegal places) carpark, though at least here we don't have the stupid barriers demanding money that you have... so can escape free.

Reading the Signs said...

FB, I had a feeling I wouldn't be alone in this. Finding a nearby side street is a good idea.

Mim said...

A little sermon from the receptionist on top of all else!

I would have lost my cool.

Never such rain as I experienced in England.

Here's hoping your eyes are better.

Reading the Signs said...

yes, Mim, the sermon was an added bonus!