But I've only just lived down Hurricane Wilma, and now I've got to deal with Cyclone Wilma; and this time it is not simply trying to hunt down and kill my management structure off in Mexico somewhere, it's coming to where I live and looking for me.
This complicates my life on several levels., some of them obvious. One of them is this : I like to do my writing on the ferry - to work and from work. This is obviously a creatively ambient atmosphere and all, but more importantly, you get a lot of elbow room. When the ferry gets cancelled - this happens in high wind; and only happens to the Gulf Harbour ferry, because it is the only one whose route is not protected by Rangitoto (yes, in this part of the world we are protected BY volcanoes rather than FROM volcanoes) the ferry company puts on a bus. Which is fine, but there goes the elbow room, and, it seems, the personal bubble. There is a certain lady who seems to seek me out on the bus and sits next to me and reads whatever I'm writing.
Anyone else find that offputting? I tilt the book at an impossible angle and she actually cranes her neck to carry on. I find myself so off track after a few minutes of this that I start writing werewolf p0rn.
She seems to like reading that, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment