Time to Reinforce the Joy ...

I've got a few small things to do today.

Check my bank balance. Sort out this week's rent, and maybe see what I need to pay this month for Council Tax.

Take out some cash to pay my TV licence for this quarter, around £15 or so, whatever.

And then ...

Manchester.

I finally have time, and money, to be able to go and grab that copy of Saturnine Nights for the Promethean: the Created roleplaying game. It's the very last book of the series, and at long last I can go and get it.

Plus, there's all the rest of Manchester to explore.

Fun.

I need another fix of fun after Eastercon.

Reinforcing the Joy, Part II: The Joy, Reinforced

I'm back from Manchester. And I have learned an important life lesson from sitting in the train home.

Don't bother with laptops.

I once coveted laptops. I really did. I couldn't imagine what my life would be like with one, but I imagined I'd be free; free to write and write and write, anywhere I wanted. Cafes, on the train, on the bus, sitting on a bench in the street. Writing, writing, writing until the batteries gave out or my fingers wore down to the bone. Oh, yeah. Give me that laptoppy goodness.

Today, I boarded a train full of executives on their way to Cardiff, via Wrexham. Laptops everywhere, people hunched over them, sweating and frowning.

Not a smiling face in sight.

Fancy. A whole trainload of Charles bloody Pooters. I was shaking when I got off the train, around 16:35.

Or maybe that was the coffee, and the fact that I hadn't eaten since 06:00, and even then only a bit of leftover sandwich from last night.

I no longer want a bloody laptop. I don't want to turn into one of those modern day Charles bloody Pooters, frowning and sweating and grumbling over a screen full of crap while the glorious Creation spins past them unnoticed.

I'd rather take up a job that isn't so laptop - intensive.

Like clowning.