Emails and sunshine. The two just don't seem to go together.
I have a stack of emails waiting for responses. I'd usually plough my way through them in planned work breaks while I was sitting at my desk. However, the last week or so has been so sunny that I've been working in the garden, or even in the park.
There are no emails in the garden or in the park. At least, none of my emails. Which makes those two places pretty useless places to be if I'm going to keep up with my emails. I've been getting some useful work done on planning the seventh Jimmy Coates book, but I've been a bit slack in getting back to people. So... sorry. I'll get there. I promise.
I'm going to lock myself away here in my underground den and get through my emails one by one before Thursday. That's my target. Why Thursday? Because that's when I'm swapping the garden for the beach - in Malta.
(I don't mean I'm literally swapping in my garden and having a beach delivered instead - that would be insane. All I mean is that I'm going to Malta. But I wanted to say it in a snazzy way. Now I read it back, it's not snazzy at all, is it? In fact, it's a bit stupid. It sounds like the unecessary voice-over on one of those daytime property shows. I hate those. Actually, the more I think of it, the more this whole 'snazzy' endeavour was flawed from the start. Who wants to be 'snazzy' anyway? All 'snazzy' means is that you've bought a sequined eighties jacket from a charity shop and now you can't get it off because the previous owner left chewing gum in the sleeve and it's melted all over your elbow. You'll have to wait until winter and chip it off bit by bit. What to do if anybody ever describes you as 'snazzy': open wardrobe. Remove contents. Start again.)
(PS The same goes for 'dapper'.)