Day Twenty-Six… Pesky Brains

1407 words.

The danger (or blessing) where a labour of love is concerned, an idea bolted down in my mind for the best part of ten years, is that it’s so intractable that it won’t tolerate any other ideas that might complement it. Well, standing in the shower yesterday, my brain was obviously in ninja mode, because it slipped me a new one that has completely messed up everything else. What if…? it connived. So now I’ve got to think about going back (once I’ve finished… never go back in the middle of something, oh no) and rejigging timelines and events and reactions and interactions and the whole slew, mickle and peck. Curse you, head organ (I love you, you daft hunk of meat)…

Listened to: Milk and Kisses by Cocteau Twins

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