Got my race number for this Saturday's 10k. I've never had a race number before because I've never been in a real race (the sort where you are supposed to be being competitive as opposed to a fun run when you aren't supposed to be but are anyway, but feel bad about it).
And my race number is.......din din din diiiiiin
That's what the title of this post is if you leave the cap. locks on by accident. I was hoping to be able to find some special significance in my number, but I don't. I asked for 13 so I could blame falling in a ditch, being mauled by hedgehogs and coming last on my number but someone else has bagsed it. So I'm 127. One hundred and twenty-seven. Aon ceud fichead sa seachd. Nope, definitely lacking portent. Tsk.
Tried a new writing thing yesterday. It felt a little bonkers but since trying it, a writer friend says it's what he does if his plots aren't co-operating, namely: I decided to ignore all my stories, half stories and sequel. Two could play at their little game. So, last night, at a time I would normally have been scurrying off with my laptop and note books and pens, I instead grabbed my kindle and went for a read and what do you know....my ghost story came slinking into my head, tail between it's legs with an improvement that will sort out where it was going wrong....hmph. Is there anything where playing hard to get doesn't work? Definitely need to try it on Saturday :)