I wake up, alone in a hotel, and think I don't need a special day to be a fool. Make myself a cup of tea peppered with London scum. Watch the street and feel disconnected from life.
In the mornings at home, the girls don't come in and see me when they wake up now, because I'm on another floor. Things are on a different level.
What to do with all this time alone?
Yeah, even the thrill of that wears off eventually.
So I thought I would fill the time with writing. I've signed up for NaPoWriMo (write a poem every day for a month). I've signed up for a 6 week online poetry course, starting Monday. And on the 9th, I'm going on a one day workshop. What else are all these lonely garrets for?
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