Susie's supposed to be writing an article about Migraines, and it's due tomorrow. She sort of dithered about it most of the week, couldn't get started - she says because 'the whole world and its auntie seemed to need my bloody attention' but it's also that she hates starting anything. Anyway, she finally began it properly yesterday but then went out to lunch and by the time she got back one of her sneaky migraines had arrived and she had to go to bed. I offered to help out with research by taking notes about how she looked, clutching her head and groaning and trying to stretch herself into a comfortable position, but she told me to 'b*gger off'. This is very typical of someone in pain, of course, but it's also very typical of her to refuse any help, especially with something she's writing, because it's all got to be her idea. Except for the times when I tell her some interesting fact and she says nothing but later it turns up in a story or as a line of dialogue, and my ears prick up with deja vu - but apparently all the best writers steal, at least that's what she says the best writers say.
Anyway, it's her headache, so I'll b*gger off and let her get on with it. But I'll make her a cup of tea first. And a wee croissant with marmalade and slices of banana. Which contain some vitamin or something that's supposed to be very good for you. Not mercury, not aluminium, but one of the metal-sounding ones. Potassium?
ALIENS LAND IN CAPITAL CITY!!
Okay, very small aliens that got here in a flying colander....
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Not to be critical, here, Marina, but does Susie know you're spilling secrets? What if she's been telling her editor some wild tale about researching migraines in the Andes, and said editor reads your blog?
Um, that did sound critical. May I offer something to make up for it? Steve Jobs used to famously tell Apple engineers that "great artists steal" - but he'd stolen that line from Picasso
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