Driving home from work, remembering two easy peelers and a babybel are still in my desk drawer; mild panic descends as my thoughts turn to the next instalment. Procrastination has got me this far, now it is time for action. Cue some hair pulling and a few sleepless nights trying to schedule time to write my story, when it dawns on me that I need to reclaim my Saturdays; this time with even more purpose. In the past, Saturday is either socialising or housework day; going forward it needs to be writing day. Of course this is a big ask. Saturday, is traditionally a major event day for practically everyone on the planet. Off the top of my head I can think of at least three events already in the diary that have the potential to make this damn near impossible not including family; but this has to start somewhere. Let’s be positive and cross those bridges when I get to them. I had a reasonable night’s sleep, I’m psyched up for it, let’s do this, let the distractions begin! So while I’m trying to nail down the outline for my story the conversation in my head is similar to a bad angel versus good angel scenario that goes something like this.