So tell me what you want

Level Four Lockdown: Day Twenty-Seven
Curfew. 8 p.m.
Mood: Too many desires, not enough freedom

So tell me what you want, what you really, really want... sang the Spice Girls some twenty something years ago.

I'm having a procrastination day today. I'm about to tackle a sex scene. I hate writing sex scenes. Leave this one out? No. This is a necessary one, which has to be written again. In an effort to get into my protagonist's head I've just showered and plastered my body with moisturiser - as she would do before her lover arrives. My hair is wet - I should blow dry it, as she would do - but I can't be bothered. I'm wearing pyjama bottoms and a light jumper. The cat is asleep on the bed. It's nearly sunset so the light is no longer in my eyes. Lucifer is on the telly - series one. I'd like to think that my protagonist, Faith,  and I would do for the same type of men. Rangy, brown-eyed Welshmen are high on my list - especially those with  the devil in their eye and a voice that would sound beautiful reciting Shakespeare or Dylan Thomas.

I will put on my Doc Martens soon - my main character wears Docs. That will put me in a Faith frame of mind. I just need a silk kimono with a dragon on the back and I'll be set.

Still, I hate writing sex scenes.

So I ask myself, what do I want, what do I really really want instead. I'm going to do my best Veruca Salt now and stamp my foot.

• I really really want to go and have a good feed of China Red / HuTong Dumpling Bar chilli wantons, with friends, preferably before going off to see a play. 
• I really, really want some human contact. 
• I really, really want to wash my car - but from what I can see, the car wash is not in operation at the moment - seen as an non-essential business. 
• I really, really want somebody to write this sex scene for me. 
• I really, really want to share a meal with somebody - quite desperate for this one. 
• I really, really want to get take out for dinner tonight - but I don't think I'm hungry enough to do that. 
• I really, really want to go for a swim. The pool has been closed since March - and today's sunshine warranted a swim. 
• I really, really want French Toast from Cafe Delish on Bambra Road - made from challah, washed  down with a mug of decaf almond latte made by Izzy.
• I really, really want to go to Adelaide for my mother's 80th birthday next month - very doubtful this will be able to happen (well not without a lot of paperwork and a 2 week hotel quarantine stay. 
• I really, really want to book a trip - to somewhere - anywhere. Oh to go to Ubud, Sydney, Buley Rock Holes / Twin Falls Gorge in the NT, Toledo Spain, Doi Suthep in Thailand.... oh shut up, Pandora.
• I really, really want to have my legs waxed. Nobody sees them, but it will make me feel better. 
• I really, really want the Mason's books to do themselves. I may finish these off while I'm procrastinating.)
• I really want to go see Blarney, Barney, the Units and the little cats. I miss them.

That will do. That's enough. I should be grateful I got an hour's walk around Studley Park this afternoon. It was wonderful. 

When it comes down to it, the infection numbers are coming down, the lockdown and masks are working and there is 16 days left of Stage Four Lockdown - fingers crossed. We seem to be getting on top of this blasted virus, thank goodness.

Still, it leaves one toey, grumpy and wanting a bit of normality.

Maybe it's time to order that pizza, pour myself a Negroni and get on with it. 

Crosses arms, stamps foot, sticks out bottom lip and gets on with it.

Today's Song: