Feeling bereft

I took my little delete key, and wiped out a thousand. Words. Beautifully crafted by me. Sigh. If only I had a mentor. Never mind! A local Writing Circle has called. They want me. I'm going along, sweaty manuscript in hand. As soon as I can get out of drinks with K. Although K promised to read my manuscript too. Do I want the opinion of strange writers? Or K's opinion? Bearing in mind I know K's hidden agenda. Actually, it's not that hidden. But might be more fun. And the boys are away for a week.

Heard Josie's boyfriend crying (sobbing) again last night. I thought he'd left her. And I thought good! Run boy run. Walk away while you still can. Bringing the dogs back from the park I met him, all his stuff in a black rubbish bag. And I kind of smiled at him, and thought good. He's getting away. But now it seems he went back.

Better get on - bed sheets need changing. The Toowowah left biscuit crumbs and little chocolate smudges. Probably saving them for a midnight feast. Don't want anyone to think I'm some kind of slut with nothing better to do but munch cookies in bed.

Oh and that Val - she's still got vertigo. Made me give her a lift up to the village. And then she was sick in my car. See what happens when you do favours for people? No good deed goes unpunished.