There, I said it. I want abs.
That may be the weirdest thing to come out of my mouth so far this year. I have never been that guy, never really even thought about it before. Although I am reminded of that strange episode in Year 8 when a girl in my class asked to see my six-pack. Continue reading
I’m sure there’s a scientific name for this (there is – latrophobia) but I’m going with Doctorphobia for the lulz. Lots of people seem to squirm at the idea of going to see the doctor. Mostly men, as the stereotype goes, although I’m not sure how accurate it is as my female best friend also gets it. I’ve always been sensible about modern medicine and amused by people thus afflicted by The Fear, but I’m getting horribly suspicious that I am, in fact, becoming afflicted by The Fear.
I’m terrified of the doctor right now. But I think I know why.
So yesterday I was sitting there in this swish doctors office with the lovely view – surely too lovely to be an appropriate venue for me to be stabbed with a needle twenty times in a row…sat there wondering, not for the first time in my life, how hard is it to stop scratching?
Writing is so hard when I don’t feel like it. When I’m in the mood, when I have something to say, I can write a whole novel without pausing for breath. When I’m stuck, it’s like pulling teeth. It’s like work. Fuck that. Still, I soldier on. It will all be worth it in the end. Continue reading