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Wednesday 22nd February 2006

As a writer you have to try and balance your work and social life carefully. Not going out and having fun can mean that writing can become a depressing and solitary business. But going out and having too much fun will impact negatively on the next day's work (and as I get older I sometimes find that it can actually affect the next 48 hours work- enjoy drinking while you are young my friends).
Last night after my gig in pseudo-Mayfair I drank with some of the other acts and punters. It was lots of stupid fun. I then stupidly went on for more drinks elsewhere and just as I was about to make a decision to go and drink more somewhere else I suddenly had a moment of anti-hedonistic clarity and jumped into an escape pod (that was disguised as a black cab) and found my way home. Had I stayed out longer I might have done something that I regretted, but being a human being today I was regretting not doing the things I would have regretted. I think this still makes me a winner. It is better to regret not doing something you would regret than to do something you regret. If that catchy epithet does not find its way into some book of quotations I will be very surprised. The only problem is I am not sure it's true. If you're going to be filled with regret, it's maybe better to have actually done something to regret. Ah whatever, put them both in dictionary of quotation editors.
But alas the clarity that stopped me drinking more had still come too late for my Wednesday working day. I was woken early by a phone call and probably should have gone back to sleep, but attempted to get up and get on with things, but I was naught but a zombie. And worse still a zombie with no desire whatsoever to write a treatment for a comedy drama about Marathon runners. If only I had been the type of zombie with that desire then things might have been different.
Instead the day went by in a hazy fug. I watched some telly, mindlessly trawled the internet, struggled to think of something to write for Warming Up and thought about going for a swim. But it seemed like a lot of effort. Maybe I should use the day to tidy my bedroom and clean my bathroom. Or maybe that was just too much effort too.
Then to try and get myself in the mood to swim I played some internet poker. I should play hungover more. I won over $300 and put myself back in profit for online play this year. I got lucky, which is fair because I had had really bad luck every time I played last month. Finally at about 5.30pm I was about to admit defeat on the day and curl into a ball and die of ennui. But I realised that I hadn’t had a shower yet. I had been waiting til I went for a swim. Strangely in my twisted brain it would be more effort for me to go upstairs and have a shower than head to Hammersmith and I managed to trick my lazy body into getting out of the house and then after a coffee of prevarication (I know it’s bad to drink caffeine prior to exercise, but I find it really helps get you going and I like to mix health and bad health in equal measure) I managed to do a brisk 25 lengths in the pool and felt a whole lot better. Maybe if I’d done that first thing then the day would have been different. But I would be $300 less well off. Except that they are paying me more than that to write the treatment. Let’s not split hairs. It was a great day for me.
I know these are themes that I return to a lot, but a day of achieving nothing seems like a waste of a small chunk of my brief life-span. As I stood in my kitchen cooking my dinner I caught my reflection in the window. I looked miserable and full of regret. Regret for a wasted day, regret for not doing something I would regret.
I laughed at my own stupid face. Wasting time is part of my job. And though in many ways my life is slightly pathetic, it’s also kind of brilliant that I can behave in this way. If I did it all the time then it would be a tragedy, but if I didn’t do it at all then what would I have to write about? How many people out there would like to have a job where they can get pissed at work and then take the next day off if they want? And also have time to consider the notions of regret. And the fallow day made me determined to achieve something tomorrow. Had I worked today I might have got half the treatment written. The chances are I will finish it tomorrow anyway.
As I say the balance between work and social life is a tricky one. I don’t think the scales are favouring one side too much at the moment.

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