I spent Thursday creating a work schedule for the next three months – this to avoid (or at least record) the last-minute deadline rush. On Friday I managed to avoid colour-coding the schedule with felt-tip pens and recalibrating it to allow for two days spent creating a schedule (cf. that bloke on Red Dwarf).

Friday was down as a day to work on the radio play and I did the numbers (769 words required, about 900 written). The day started badly with a 200+ word cut, but I caught up and, with the schedule nipping at my heels, managed to write something that surprised me. I know this mechanistic approach is useless, but it gets me started and the pressure sometimes produces results.

I was so wired by finishing time that I started to put up more shelves in the office. Small room, power tools, tired writer – not a good combination. There were (figurative) tears. However, they’re up and they’re loaded with plays unpacked from the attic. It’s like having old friends back (along with some strangers and several people you’ve never got on with).

Today is going less well, but I know I have to push on – the spreadsheet says I must.