Debbie Millman

“It is Winter 2027. What does your life look like? What are you doing? Where are you living? Who are you living with? Do you have pets? What kind of house are you in? Is it an apartment are you in the city are you in the country? What does your furniture look like? What is your bed like? What are your sheets like? What kind of clothes do you wear? What kind of hair do you have? Tell me about your pets, tell me about your significant other, do you have children? do you have a car? Do you have a boat? Talk about your career? What do you want? What are you reading? What are you making? What excites you? What is your health like? Write this one day ten years from now. So one day in the winter of 2027, what does your whole day look like? Start from the minute you wake up, brush your teeth, have your coffee or tea, all the way through until minute you tuck yourself in at night. What is that day like for you? Dream big, dream without any fear. Write it all down. You don’t have to share it with anyone other than yourself. Put your whole heart into it. Write like there is no tomorrow; write like your life depends on it because it does. And then read it, once a year, and see what happens.”

Signed up for a one-month free trial at Lynda x Linked in.

Downloaded Scrivener yesterday and almost completed the draft of the recipe book.

It’s January after all. I’m still in pain. It’s better than yesterday though, or the day before.

How to say no
Wait but why?

Things of which I dream

Tsumani, waves, sea, recurring, but it always passes and I always remain safe and unscathed in the house, but the house/etc are destroyed. The aftermath is pretty bad. In fact everything is destroyed except me.

Toilets, futuristic, impossibly sophisticated, mechanical, automated

Toilets, over-wrought sophistication (luxury, perfume and white flowers — someone’s lousy try-too-hard idea of faux luxury and sophistication, that did not quite work in reality, after several people had used the toilet. I also saw what it looked like before it was used. It was a dent in the ground, covered with perfume and large white flowers, which I guess you were supposed to pee over, but after you did that, it seemed like the flowers etc drained to the side, in a line?). Male basket and female basket. Female basket went down, Male basket was at same level. Male toilets converted to female toilets. Bunch of salarymen, Asian, possibly Japanese, in office wear (white, striped shirts, black pants) waiting to use the toilet ahead of me.

Lesbian sex, recurring, rape — I wasn’t impressed. Happened in the thick curtains before I got to the toilets. I felt the thickness of the curtains. He said, “It’s happened before, right? During 7-11.” But it wasn’t during 7-11, so I looked him in the eye and said no. His eyes were red. I tried not to cry after. Something he knew about me that he’s using as evidence against me.

Elevator going past the top floor of a block of flats, where it looks broken or unfinished

Escalators, rushing around looking for escalators going up, sometime to run into escalators that are both coming down (roadblock), confused, hurried

Spiral staircase, white sheet metal, not grills, very clean minimalist design

Another staircase, with polished wood banisters, very smooth, sliding downwards.

“I am still a staff writer,” to Mr Leet, while undercover as a “client” (media, member, high-society people.)

“What is the push factor?”

“There is more a pull factor — the call of the wild / unknown.”

“The problem / thing with you is that the self-motivation is so strong…”

“To come back here only to find that everything and everyone is still the same, including myself.” — disappointment

Writing test, accused of cheating, but vindicated by CCTV