It’s a New Year, and I feel like crap. I’m in a cold, empty house, I worked today, and I’ll probably be working tomorrow. I’ve got the remnants of the flu, which are seeming worse than the flu ever was, and any minute now the stupid birds outside my window (which it now occurs to me are being fooled by the street lamps, possible) will start singing. It’s just past midnight. And I just got pins and needles in my foot, which I can no longer feel due to the aforementioned cold house. Oh dear, this really isn’t a promising beginning, is it? Let me go get some orange juice and see if we can’t make it look a bit better.
That’s a bit better. At least my throat isn’t so sore any more.
I’ve bought a new notebook. It is, by proxy, a Christmas present, as it was bought with John Lewis vouchers (who the hell buys those?), but I feel like it’s more a present From Me. I was going to go for an understated leather deal, just black and lined pages in the classic style, but I felt that a present should be something a bit more special. So instead I have something that borders on ostentatious, but I think dodges the bullet of pretention and remains quitely confident. It’s a faded red leather, with a faded gold indian design as a border. Yes, I know it’s been made to look like that, but if I bought a new one like that it wouldn’t look cool until it was full, and then what use is it?
The problem is I rarely write out of my room, and when I’m in my room I write on the computer. It all ends up transposed here anyway. But that’s not really the point. There’s something wonderful about an empty notebook. It’s cliche to the point of boredom, but there’s something wonderful about the potential of a black sheet of paper that an empty monitor with a blinking cursor just can’t emulate. At least not yet. And so my best writing is often done on a train with a notebook on a table, or in the middle of a park, or just in a coffee shop, to adhere to the stereotype. And while yes, I think that the enviroment may have an impact on that, I also think it’s the fact I’m writing, not typing.
So I’m going to begin this year with an empty notebook and an empty house. We’ll see which one yeilds more results.