I have been writing almost all day; I am taking a punt at doing a piece for an academic journal, which means lots of being precise and exact and saying exactly what you mean and not a bean more.
If the boiler had not broken down yet again (shall I 'out' the Barnet boiler-breaking plumber? It's so tempting but he is a frightening man) I would have been going to spend a day in the library tomorrow. But instead I will be waiting in for the heating engineer and making cups of tea.
I wrote something for an e-zine over the weekend. Although none of these things are paid, I think you could say that I am trying hard not to drown in the negative misery that we are all being force fed at the moment!
I have also been planning for a songwriting course that I am working on this coming weekend. It is the first that I have done entirely on my own outside a University environment and I am hoping that none of the participants are expecting a 'this is how you write a hit' experience. Writing hits involves as much being part of a network as what you actually write, and that network is cruel, and closed to outsiders.
It has been full for a long time, and I will tell you what happened next week.
Meanwhile, I sit here and look forward to finishing the album that Martin and myself have been working on later this summer: The Cafe of Tiny Kindnesses. Roll on, roll on!