It’s Sunday evening, and I’ve already squeezed all the sassy juice from my brain by writing my newspaper column, but I love the tip-tappy sound of my fingers bashing the keyboard with purpose so I’m continuing to write.

Plus, I’ve just been watching You on Netflix, which glamourizes being a writer to the extent that I feel the urge to wring out my parched brain a little more to get that smug high.

I’ve set myself up with my laptop out on the deck, which has fairy lights (the straight-laced, no bullshit yellow kind, not their tacky, multi-coloured relatives) strung up around the railing. I’ve lit a citronella candle. And I’ve poured myself a stiff glass of milk over ice in one of my fancy crystal glasses.

I’ve just Snapchatted my setup, that’s how lush it looks.

It’s pretty fucking ideal.

The breeze is nice. The sunset is lovely. There are two possums hanging out in our front garden, nibbling native fruits that would probably give any human severe diarrhoea. I almost don’t want to leave this set up.

But then, I’m pretty tired, it smells like someone just lit up a cigarette on street below and there are mozzies stabbing my big toe, robbing me of my blood and essence. I want to write, sure, but I want to get this over with in a timely manner. I mean, I’ve got goujons in the oven.

And so, I’m leaning towards my Three Things genre, where I pull tiny titbits of scattered thoughts together rather than using my brain to actually fashion a single, coherent column.

But, because I’m an edgy, creative writer who appreciates soft lighting, I’ve added a twist to the basic Three Things formula.

Instead of listing three things within a single category, I’m using it as a countdown. A three-two-one kinda deal. The points are smaller, less challenging to flesh out and, despite appearing to be quite a lot of writing when they’re all grouped together, easy to digest. Pour yourself an ice cold glass of calcium and drink it in:

Three things I bought at the supermarket that weren’t on my list:

1. One kilo of chicken goujons: I already had half a packet in the freezer, but these bastards were on a half-price special and I wasn’t about to let an opportunity like that pass me by.
2. A ten-dollar tub of extremely low calorie coconut ice cream: I was feeling weary and gluttonous. I feel like this choice was a victory, given my condition.
3. A punnet of blackberries: These berries are often tossed into a frozen mixed berry mix and they’re pretty much trash after they’ve spent time in a freezer. But get them fresh and you’re in heaven. As far as berries go, these guys seem like the most unnecessary of them all. And you never really go into a shop with a hankerin’ for blackberries. But I recently bought a punnet on a whim when they were dirt cheap and, far out brussles sprout, I am hooked.

Two things I congratulated someone for today:

1. For not being pregnant:we may have entered the age when your first reaction to pregnancy isn’t to “accidentally” loose your footing down a flight of stairs. And we’re probably way better equipped to be bringing future people into the world than our parents. But no one wants to be kicked in the guts with an inconvenient pregnancy. I mean, what if you and your partner were planning to buy a speedboat? You don’t want to spend your speedboat dollars on nappies and nipple pads. I mean, the overwhelming, all-consuming rush of love would be great and all, but tubing is also really, really fun.
2. For sneaking vodka into a Craig David concert in a water bottle: This very intelligent woman had a mission and she executed it with skill and ingenuity.  And she doesn’t have to pay $17 for a watered down Pimms. God bless her.

One thing I apologised for today: 

1. “My inflections are all over the shop today”. I usually have a sarcastic sounding tone that makes it difficult to extract the true meaning from my words, but today it wasn’t clear whether I was asking a question or making a statement. It was a weird day for me.