I was moaning at work today about the lack of time we have to get round to posting dozens of stories on the web now we are all web first whizzy internet hacks.
But time is something I miss in other areas. The only reason I occasionally have a go at the Lottery is to try and get the money to realise the dream of owning a house with a library big enough to have a gallery you can pull yourself around with one of those special ladders, ideally a real log fire for the winter plus of course a globe that turns out to be a drinks cabinet.
After sitting on a day bed flicking through book after book occasionally you might feel like going into the local school and sharing some of your thoughts on great writing with the impressionable, but most of the time the struggle would be to choose the next book and flick crumpet crumbs off your chest.
Oh happy dreams…