EVERY DAY I WRITE THE BOOK
The day dawns.
I've been up three hours already due to West to East jetlag.
I have a telephone argument with a work colleague ending in me shouting at them and hanging up.
I take a call from our builder who tells me that the wall his guys built on Friday has been pushed over in the night. (We suspect our disgruntled neighbours who aren't happy with our extension. They are somewhat hard of thinking and unable to articulate their concerns in a more appropriate manner.)
I accidentally destroy the 1 gb memory stick out of my phone, killing evidence of two holidays and two interesting work trips.
My laptop seizes up. I hard reboot. It dies.
The customer cancels a major project at work, leaving me to sort out the aftermath.
One of their systems promptly falls over with a Severity 1 failure.
It's 8pm and the jet-lag returns. I ache for sleep.
Maybe tomorrow will be better.