Friday, June 03, 2011

Being fiction

I'm having a pretty ok day over here, feeling all right, working, doing my job. And then I went on lunch. I had a Spanish omelette with garlic green beans, a diet coke, two biscuits and a latte. For the first half of my lunch I had to talk to a co-worker who discovered me in the cafeteria and ignored my do not disturb signal. But for the other half I read a book called Suspect, by Jennifer Rowe. It's pretty good.

And then I went back to my office and instead of feeling ok and all right and working, I feel flat and uninspired and generally malcontented.

But it's not me feeling these things, it's Tessa, the detective in Suspect. She's on the trail of a serial killer and has just been dumped by her pratty boyfriend.

I was feeling pretty blue there, until I realised why. Does anyone else experience this?

2 comments:

H said...

yes! which means during term time I have to read something that isn't gong to make me snap at the kids.

Catherine said...

Oh yeah.

Writing is even worse.