Before I went to NYC, I wrote three imagined diary entries, for my short story blog. Find them here, here and here. In these I imagined certain parts of my trip and wrote the diary entry from my imagination knowing I would find out for real in a few days time.
My problem is they were too good, I mean too close to the truth, what I imagined would happen, did happen. They were uncannily accurate. This depresses me somewhat. Those who know me will know there is a certain miserly part of my brain. So next time I decide to go somewhere on holiday, San Fran, Tokyo, Rio, my miserly brain might argue it's not worth spending the money when I can live the experiences vicariously through my stories. It's quite a compelling argument really, why travel half away around the world when you can sit at home and experience it? After all you travel for work, staying home might be nice, see now the tired of travelling part of my brain is getting in on the act. Hey think of the cholesterol you wouldn't eat - aargh my health conscious part of my brain is weighing on the side of old miser too. And think how tired your ankle was - oh god the anti-holiday coalition is taking over my brain, I’m doomed to staycations for the rest of my life.