I knew as I was writing last night about finding direction and being slightly productive that it would be a short term thing. It's not that I've done nothing today. I've come up with some things, just not very big things, clever things or many things and it has all been done at quite a slow pace.

There was a reason I set my alarm for 12.30 last night. I wasn't sure what it was, but I did it anyway. At 12.30 I rolled back to sleep. Twenty minutes later there was a knock on my bedroom door. 'Hello, we're here to do a viewing. Are you decent?' That was it. Having barely any clean clothes and no underwear to my disposal, I threw on a hoodie and a pair of ill fitting jeans and escaped to the living room. After fixing breakfast and showing some latecomers around the house (still dressed quite badly), I received a text as I was putting a laundry load on. 'Do you fancy a jam?' It asked. 'Only if I can bring my dis and my guitar' I replied. 'Yes and yes', was the response. Cool, I thought. It's only 2pm and I can get to work, as opposed to the usual start twelve hours later in the day.

We played guitar for about an hour or so and thoughts of writing subsided. So when the idea of going for a pub dinner came up I willingly obliged. Then the opportunity to go spinning staffs and playing a bit more arose. I took that option too. Tired from the most exercise I've had in about a month, I went round to another friend's house for a cup of tea and a cigarette or three. I got home after 11 and tried to get to work. Then it was twelve. One soon followed and I found myself watching the Late Night Poker final (which to my shock was only the first bloody half, I'll have to tune in next week!). So now it has gone three and I've done a tiny bit of reading. I need to be up at ten to show my tutor what I've done. I can explain the re-shuffle of my plans for the dissertation, but I don't think he'll care about that. He wants to see work I think. So do I.