There seems to be a gaping hole in my study floor…it is most disconcerting. Something, I think, to do with the fact that I spent the entire morning tidying up. I’m waiting while one or two people read my draft novel, so rather than twiddle my thumbs, I decide to tidy up the debris that seems to have accumulated whilst in the depths of writing it…. a pile of notes, a pile of research notes and a pile of research materials seems to have morphed into one big splodge of three-pile no-pile carpet, if you get my drift…oh, yes, here is the rug…and what’s this? Wow! Floorboards…oh yes, I do remember them vaguely…Oh and I can suddenly get to my bookshelves and the door to the apple store (Apple store? But that’s another matter…). And the room suddenly seems bigger and more airy. A flap of the duster and a pirouette with the Dyson (it is a very small room) and I feel like I have suddenly moved into a brand new workspace. Now, what shall I do? I think I might have PTND…post traumatic novel disorder… better think up an idea for another novel…