In the immediate future, I will only be able to offer you brief summaries of what is going on in life. I read four Pulitzer-winning books this week and now everything I do is a waste of the internet, obviously. Tip: if you want to go on believing you’re good at something, don’t launch yourself into an intensive study of all the people who are much, much better at it than you are.

My fingers are covered in bandaids because I’ve been typing on my typewriter and what they don’t tell you about that is that your digits disappear between the keys, and because your immediate reaction is to pull them out again, the skin comes off. It seems fairly likely that had I lived in a time before computers, I would have done considerably less writing and a lot more bleeding.

I put my NaNo story on hiatus after I sat down at said typewriter and out came a man called Francis who went and got a job in a bread shop. It’s funny the way stories can just come at you from nowhere and you have to find out what they’re about, even if they turn out to be quite bad. I was even more surprised by this one because I’m not sure Francis would have ever come to my place if I hadn’t bought a typewriter. He is a typewriter character, not a computer character. When I write at my computer, the old story comes out in such a way that makes me think the lines are too close together.

Sometimes my mum sends me text messages that just say, “I bought you a little present.” Eventually she gives me a book or a scarf, but the real present is that she thinks about me while she’s in her own space. There was a time when I didn’t think that would happen.

For the non-typewriter writing, I bought a new iMac. I’d had my old one for four years and I am nothing if not a consumerist wench, so I bought a new one. To be honest, it’s not that much different from the old one, because from the front you can’t see how crazy thin it is anyway, but the people at the Apple Store were so excited to sell me their first one that they took my photo with the sales guy and the iMac in its box. Then I walked back to my car in the rain on my own, so I guess the fame was fleeting.

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