Guys. Guys! I actually finished writing an early, shitty draft of the first chapter of hopefully-a-book about my walk last year. I've been tremendously slow at writing it, though it's only a few thousand words so far; it's dismaying to feel like every word you put down is manure. But this, at least, is a beginning. I hope to keep at it and make some serious progress over the next few months and maybe even get it published. Fingers-crossed.

Before that I want to write up a big Hubski post about the journey. I'm only nearly a year late on that one.

This comes as I and a close friend were discussing creative endeavours and the ideal use of time. He's currently spending pretty much every waking moment writing songs, with the goal of becoming a commerical songwriter. He chastised me a few weeks ago for my laziness, telling me that if I don't sit down and do the bloody thing it'll end up one of those things that just never get done. To be fair, now is the time to write it, though I'm fairly unsure at times as to why I actually want to. It just... I know that if I don't I'll really regret it and wish I had? Like the other things I wanted to write and just... didn't. It hangs in my mind asking to be done and won't leave me alone until I have.

Most of the time I'm just super tired - I've been down at my sister's house a lot. Thankfully the painting phase is on hold because everything else has to be done before the final coat. This week we installed a new door and have been preparing the floors with insulation and the last bits of pipework. Next up are the underfloor heating pipes, and then the liquid concrete to get a nice smooth floor (but first a layer of plastic to stop the concrete from eroding the aluminium covering on the insulation). Then underlay and wood floors and tiling, and a couple of walls still to plaster, and the toilets and showers and the kitchen to fit, and the radiators, and the stairs to sand and varnish, and the outside of the house to clean and paint, then some things I've forgotten, and then it'll be finished and I probably won't know what to do with myself.

Today I was behind the bar, though, which is actually kind of my only social outlet. Other than chatting to some people there I'm only exposed to family members, which is nice and all, but I miss my friends. I don't really have any friends in this town. It kinda sucks.

I've regressed to being seventeen, I swear. I live with my mother, work part-time in a bar, work helping out my dad the rest of the time, and still can't drive a car, which is on the to-do list. I'm going to have to start thinking about my next move soon - can't live here forever.

Recently I started reading The Tin Drum by Günter Grass. It was recommended to me years ago by a friend and I have to say I'm enjoying it so far - I didn't expect it to be so funny. In general I'm a bit behind with my reading, though. I haven't been making time for it lately.

I did watch Rogue One the other day, though, which I actually didn't think was too bad. More unsurprising than anything. Now watching Casablanca for the first time. Set during World War II? Starring Humphrey Bogart? Looks promising.