One of those days...

One of those days I’m afraid.

A rush and panic kind of day, a four o’clock wake and a falling to sleep as I need to get up day, a dream that was going quite well taking a turn for the worse and going off down nightmare alley day, a fuzzy head when I need it to be clear day, a dark start and a dark end day, a getting lost and Runcorn bridge day, a postcode negative and blue hotel day.

A not all bad, but not all good day.

And my e-mail is putting my Facebook messages in the junk folder. And stuff that I should be getting isn’t being got.

Okay off I go to my ideal world where everything is simple and each day I work to the same plan. The only exception being that on Christmas day instead of beans and bacon for dinner I have beans and bacon and sausage with fried potatoes, and I wear a hat pulled from a cracker - two handed of course and a boxful would last me a dozen years - before falling asleep in front of my radio having enjoyed the best Christmas chiller ever - M.R. James preferably.

Oh, and of course there would be the back from the friendly pub, and the fifteen year old single malt by my own warm fire, and the sound of the sea outside, and the wind, and the poetry thundering through my mind like R.S. Thomas, and the paint and pencils, and the calm.

Sigh... happiness to dream of.

One day.

Not today though.