My dining room table is covered with receipts and papers for me to cull and collate and arrange for my quarterly GST report - by the end of today. So I had to go somewhere else to eat. Not the living room, too cool. Behind my big chair in the bedroom is an entire bookcase full of poetry. Lovely way to start the day, with Gerard Manley Hopkins. Happiness is poetry for breakfast. So gratuitous, don't have to do anything.

Doing something is always fraught. The nicest thing about having an idea of what to write or pitch, or query about is getting the idea and not immediately doing anything about it. You've had the idea and you think it's a good one. While it's still in your mind, all things are possible. Once you've made your move and tendered some sort of application or request, it's in the recipient's court, where hope dwindles and fades and eventually dies of attrition. Back to the drawing board. Where did you file hope - under A for aspiration or D for Disappointment?

Happy thoughts tomorrow, as GMH is my witness. I may even quote a few lines.