'Did you get her telephone number?'

Life I'm wired on caffeine. Isn't it funny how your keyboarding skills diminish when you feel like you have many things to write about? This evening, in a mood of desperation I went on a coffee shop hop trying to get away from anything work and home related so that I could get some reading done. I've had a book about Francois Truffaut on loan from the library for weeks and I wanted to make some headway. I ended up working my way through about six coffee places in about four hours which even allowing for eating in two of them is a crazy pace I won't be repeating in a hurry. I've learnt two things. That different cafe/bar owners have vastly different ideas of how much black coffee you can serve for a price. In some places, £1.20 will buy you a vat, in others £1.80 leaves your pocket for what amount to a thimble -- and that's not even an espresso.

I didn't get the book read. It ended up being dryer than I was expecting -- film theory rather than a making of, which is fine, but in Truffaut's movies everything tends to be self evident. Which is probably why in the third coffee place I got out my notebook and started to write. Long term readers or people who've met me will know that I've had an idea for a television script buzzing about for over five years. At times there have been drafts but as full time work started to grip, I put it on the back burner in favour of the medium your reading these words on now. Every now and then I'll get a moment of inspiration, but not enough to get anything down. Tonight I managed to dash down three scenes and have a clearer idea of how it should proceed. Much like my madness of last night I don't know where they came from, and it's made me want to have a go at completing at least a new first draft. So if I'm not post here or at heardsaid, you'll know what I'm doing. What's it about? That would be telling...