Studio? What studio?

Been asleep from 11 - 1 again today. Not just napping, more the coma-sleep variety; the sort where you wake up, sit up and feel like you still left your head on the pillow. What was I doing before 11? I can't remember, but I'm sure it was scintillating. A visit to the building society was included, I remember that much. I hate my building society branch. There are always queues out the door and halfway to bloody Exeter, whatever time of day, and only ever two miserable-looking cashiers. I suppose they have a right to look miserable, I guess I would if I could see my day's work trailing round like a snake out the door; no pleasant surprises as to who might walk in, no anticipation of a genial chat or gossip - you can see all the oap's and you know all they'll want to talk about is the price of bacon and the bloody queue. Ho hum.

I'm getting a bit worried about the lack of creative thought going on in my brain at the moment. There is a drought. I have been in the studio though; in fact that's where I went to sleep. But it's beginning to feel less like a studio and more like a wardrobe in there lately, they're are clothes everywhere. Okay so they're my clothes and maybe it's just a sabotage technique, but it's distracting and who wants to get the ink and wax out and get them all over your favourite underwear? A very good sabotage technique this one, I wonder how long I can make it last? Well, I've only got an hour or so before I have to make the trip over to the school, so there's not much point in going in there now is there? No. I could just have another look at a couple of good blogs I like, like reasons to be cheerful or maybe unreliable witness (bloggers after my own heart these seem to be). Or coffee. I can smell how wonderful it will be (see my imagination does still work). Maybe food though, I've just realised I'm starving; had nothing to eat since my porridge this morning. Food. And coffee. Over a couple of blogs...