So Mercury is in retrograde right now. It’s a thing.
And it’s not alone out there. Mars, Saturn, Pluto, Jupiter, they’re all in on it too. We’re talking five simultaneous, synchronised planets orbiting backwards around the sun. (Okay so technically they aren’t actually going backwards, but their proximity to the sun makes it look like they are. Or something. Astronomers call this an ‘apparent change’. That’s good enough for me and explains a lot about my life right now).
“Don’t contemplate a life as a writer unless you have a huge appetite for solitude, and more than that, in some sense you are most alive when alone” – Martin Amis
I slip out of town late on a Friday. It’s dinner peak hour at home but Hank waves me off, children clinging to him like barnacles. I’ve packed my laptop and a stack of books and I’m heading west for the Blue Mountains. I’m escaping.
Exploded suitcases, mountains of washing, trails of sand and seashells in the sink and a great big bottomless bucket of demotivation. Something tells me we’re not on holiday anymore.