What is it with me and deadlines, and why can't I get it through my dense skull that finishing early would be a pleasant and relaxing experience.
I remember at school it was the same. I'd leave my prep until the last possible second, often staying up half the night to finish. Strange how the excuse 'I'm working on my prep Sir.' never seemed to hold any weight when caught in the library at 4.00am.
I've written a good, nay, a damn good song called 'Hollywood Fantasy.' I can 'hear' how it could be, the production I'd like to throw it's way. Yet what have I done? Watched a shed load of T fucking V, and only started to record it at 11pm. Arse that I am.
Winge over
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