Right now I'm feeling a little sickly. Whilst setting my bedroom up ready for filming of "Self" there tomorrow I encounted a real beast; and one that I have a real hate/hate relationship with - dust. It's a terribly nasty critter that somehow manages to get everywhere; clogging up book sheleves, and making the television set unbareable to watch. Everywhere I turn it's there; and I swear I'm allergic to it, for the stuff gives me a right sore throat and headache. Damn you dust!
My problems are a bit like dust; cropping up whenever I least want them to. Take a piece of drama work I've been set over the week long holidays - work I've told myself to start from day one, but just keep putting off. There's always something in my way - like writing, or planning my film. Anything at all, so long as I don't have to start work on the coursework.
Like an explosion of dust around the house, the best thing for me to do is probably start the coursework asap; but instead I'm letting it pile up - to such an extent that just the thought of working on it is now a daunting prospect. You see, that's what happens when you put off doing something for long enough; it usually comes right back to bite you in the ass.
Which is why I was so happy to return to writing "Assassin" and "Darkened Avenue" - because I've been away from both series for so long now, if I waited any longer I wouldn't want to return. I'd be too scared - and when a writer doesn't want to write, what he or she does eventually end up writing is the biggest pile of steaming poo you ever did see.
I have a philsophy. I developed it this evening, whilst dusting my room, and wishing I'd done it earlier. If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing now. Otherwise all those troubles you think you've put behind you, or those troubles you're running away from... well lets just say they'll come back doubly as strong looking for you.
Live for the moment folks; and never have any regrets.