My Little Ramazan - Day Two

Thurs 12th August 2010

Welcome to the second day of my non-fasting, fasting ritual. Yet again I have spent the day eating and drinking to my heart’s content, despite valiant efforts to cut down in preparation for when the fasting properly begins. Well, maybe the efforts weren’t quite as valiant as they could have been. Well, maybe the effort wasn’t actually as effort-full as it could have been. Okay, so I haven’t really tried at all but the thought was definitely there.

For a second.

I’ll tell you about the philosophy I am going with. Bearing in mind I will begin my own little Ramazan in a matter of days (or maybe even hours, depending on Mother Nature), I have decided to eat like a Queen. Why should I start denying myself oh-so-lovely things when I will be going without for a full month? Plus I did a big shop the other day. Nobody can keep their stomach empty once a big shop has been done. Surely that is common knowledge.

Other than that my day has been fairly non-eventful. My little one has been at the Childminder’s all day so I have had the wonderful sanctuary that is a quiet home to work and play in. I say work and play because that’s what it feels like to do my kind of work. I am a writer, an artist and – because I can’t think of a less pretentious title – a creative education specialist. I do creative stuff with different types of people, basically. And, when there is no paid work on the go, I paint or write to my little soul’s content. And that is what I have been doing today. Continuing work on a novel I started four – count them, four – years ago. No, it is not an epic to rival War and Peace, I just happen to have done a load of other stuff in the middle of its creation such as get married, have a baby, live in three different countries and get over a bout of unfathomable depression.

My novel is going to be fab. It’s going to be wonderful. It’s going to be (and has been) a bloody big challenge but I am determined to finish it. I have a love-hate relationship with working on it but do you know what helps me cope and carry on? Biscuits. Tea and biscuits. Tea and coffee and biscuits. And maybe even a slice of cake. The trips to the kitchen are almost as frequent as the terrible metaphors I write but that doesn’t stop me from doing either of them.

What am I going to do when my little Ramazan challenge stops me from indulging in writing pit-stops? Will the novel-writing come to a stand still? Will I give up on it entirely? Will I put it away in a drawer and forget about it forever, thus denying the world the life-enhancing impact it would have had on millions of readers had I just been given a caffeine and sweet pastry supply?

I’m starting to feel woozy. Maybe a biscuit would help.