Days in the Life of…

Monday Day: Writing is bumpy.  After lunch, training with Andre. Exhausted from weekend and seven hour chick-mobile adventure from Wales to London – complete with loss of three mobile phones and a bad case of cystitis. I manage to trot just over  a mile on the treadmill and please Andre.

4pm. Movie with David McCandless. Three Miles North of Molkom – it is a doco about a Swedish hippie festival – a ‘No Mind’ festival. It is a screening. Much of it is eerily familiar to my current investigations and memoir. Lots of workshops and chanting and sweat lodges and yes – tantra. Euhhhh.

Later I am still evasive around writing and Rollinson notices. We eat spag bol.

Tuesday night:  teaching night.  5 great women are due to come round for my regular Tuesday night class. I prepare the work, read and edit manuscripts and so on. Draw a bath. Bath myself in bubbles and Himilayan bath salts. In a white terry towelling robe I lay on my bed for a small kip – knowing I have a full hour before they arrive at 6.30pm.

I awake, startled, at 7.30pm. I fly down the stairs to find my gorgeous students sitting in the sun on my doorstep. They laugh. They are not cross.  I love them.

It’s all the jogging (which is making me fatter).

Wednesday Evening: A walk on Hampstead Heath with famous psycotherapist Dr Dina Glouberman; we talk about everything. She asks me if I ever said goodbye to my father before he died. I said no. My last words to him – were – ‘take a swim’. He did – and died in the pool.

“You’re still traumatised,” Dina says. Wow yes.  Maybe.

Thursday night. I’m home.  I have made delicious fruit salad with pommegranates. I will be reading a chunk of my friend ‘s work for our monthly editorial meeting tomorrow.

Tomorrow: 9am. Andre Williams. I have to run 2 miles round the track at Willesden Sports Centre. Andre, my new personal trainer, is the 4th fastest man in the UK. He is training for the Olympics in 2012  – and I for one plan to be there to cheer him on.

2pm. Welcome Cafe – with E, discussing our memoirs. I am now 82, 380 words into mine. That’s 244 pages. Rollinson is up in the Lake District – and has taken a chunk of my book. He is my second reader – and a good one.

Tomorrow night: Saddlers Wells: Sylvie Guillem dances Eonnagata – wow. She is still , in my eyes, the best dancer in the world. I go with the new Mr and Mrs Bowes.

Writing has been up and down of late, not just this week. My memoir is catching up with present life. It’s very odd.

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~ by moniqueroffey on June 25, 2009.

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