Submitted by Fran on Tue, 2009-03-10 20:53.
Stick me on a cocktail stick and leave me out for the birds. I’m running on empty. One more second in that office and I’ll have given them 40 million. I’m done now. Time to work in a local bookshop, write my prose and see the spring in from a park bench. I want to sleep well and have time to think. I want to have a lunch break that isn’t five minutes in the ladies’ loo with my head hung upside down. But there’s a credit crunch on and I should be grateful there’s a wizzy hand-drier. Publishers are downsizing, literary fiction pays pants anyway and I’m all out of beans. No steam left. Beans are over-rated. I like steam though. I’m all for evaporating stuff behind me. Whatever the heck that means.
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