Dichotomy, dykeotomy…

To read or to write? ┬áThat is the question…

When the ‘staying awake in the evening’ gene kicks in (rare!) I usually read.

This gene is different to the ‘Hey look, it’s evening and you’re eating pizza/pasta/something peculiar you’ve cooked (delete as applicable), why the hell aren’t you reading something?’ gene that kicks in after work (frequently!).

I deal with the latter gene by reading; by reading anything I can put my hands on in the kitchen (because I’m too lazy to go upstairs to get a book).

I deal with the former by…

Well that’s it, you see; I’m not terribly sure how I deal with the former.

I have these massive compulsions to write (even rarer than rare!) and when they bite/strike/tickle my fancy (more appropriate deleting) the laptop comes out regardless of what’s on the clockface.

But lately the ‘right! I’m in bed now, don’t feel like sleeping in the least, so let’s get that copy of Suite Francaise that I’ve been stuck on page 16 for the last two weeks out and have a bloody good read’ gene seems to be broken.

Because, last night, no sooner had I flicked on Radcliffe & Maconie (BBC Radio 2’s excellent electronic evening entertainment) and picked up the aforementioned book than…

The alarm went off at 05.15.

Bugger.

Fallen asleep again.