The good thing about driving is it gives me time to think. I didn’t realise that I’d be doing it for 5 hours each way when I agreed to do this job tomorrow. But … that’s how it fell for me. I had to get myself to Rochdale somehow. The company send a car. They do it through Enterprise, and sometimes you get a free upgrade and something flash to drive. But today it was just a basic ford. I felt really small and low in the road after all that time in the van. But much nippier.
I love listening to radio 4, driving and sorting out the contents of my head – which are jumbled at the best of times. I had some useful insights into patterns of thinking I’d fallen into. I’ve been keeping myself busy dayjobbing and corporating and acting and I’ve not been letting myself think very much. Work can be an avoidance tactic. But driving, although you have the very active task of not getting yourself and those around you killed, is always a good time for me to work out what I’ve been avoiding.
I’m in a Premier Inn. I did an advert for one of their competitors a few years ago in which I forgot my toothbrush and because of their “forgotten something promise” they magically provided me with one and made me the happiest human being on the planet. Life imitated art this evening, when I realised that I’d only taken what I need for work, my charger, a change of underwear and something to sleep in.
But I’m up super early tomorrow and I still need to plan what I’m doing. It’s another whole day doing something I’ve never done before, but on tracks that I recognise. It’ll be fine. But I’m going to take this precious hour before midnight to work at it, and drop a short blog. Until I know the timings tomorrow I can’t properly relax…
There’s the problem with driving. Sure you can think. But you can’t write.