Help! I think I need to be Katie Price!

And not in a big-bazoomer-y type of way, not in an orange-hued, stick-thin celebrity B-lister type of way either, in fact not even in an "I married one of the fittest, most tolerant, funniest blokes in the universe but it still didn't make me happy" kinda way either.  No, I think I need to be Katie Price because of what happened to me in the shower this morning.
Incoming elaboration...
As regular readers already know, the bathroom is where I get  my best ideas.  And  today, even through the fug of the current mucus-based-bug - which let me tell you turns any wet room into an unprecedented danger zone -  I had SUCH a double, no.. triple - oh soddit - make that a gazillion-whammy of a creative inspiration that I actually left the room shaking and pruned to the eyeballs, I'd stood under the shower for so long trying to work it all out.
I KNOW it's a great idea.  I KNOW it'll be an absolute blast to write.  I KNOW it'll hit home on so many levels and touch a whole generation and I KNOW the subject so well that it'll be almost painful (in a good way) to write- but.  And this is not a massive but.... BUT I already have tandem WIP teen books I'm writing, I have a list of about 15 other 'tentative titles' of ideas that I know I'll to get round to penning "One Day" and I vacillate from one to the other according to my general mood, the weather and my state of un/dress.
(This, in case any Agent-type person is reading - is because I NEED AN AGENT to discipline me in where/what/which I'm supposed to be doing first for optimum effect.. ok, manic screech over...)
And you know what?  This, is what I imagine Katie Price has the ability... nay, the luxury to do.  She can have a great idea whilst in her equivalent of MY creative shower (she's certainly not welcome in my shower - let me make that perfectly clear - not whilst there are red-blooded men and impressionable teenagers about the house) and, knowing that she doesn't have to actually sit at a keyboard - much less LEARN how to use one to begin with - and start to draft the bones, research until three in the morning whilst ensuring surrounding areas are kept free of smeared chocolate, hob-nob crumbs, spilled tea and small creatures on the sniff for said scraps.  AND keep a bloody house running.  Oh, and a turn up regularly at a part-time job.  And feed a family - which includes cats.  Does she? Well, does she?
I'm guessing not.  Although I'm quite happy to be corrected on this point.  I'd welcome it to be frank.  It'd be nice to have a creative chin-wag with a 'writer' of her calibre. 
In my mind, she has these ideas (in whatever room of her house in whichever state of undress she chooses) and promptly farms them out to some other poor (more professional, who can spell, knows where a comma's supposed to go and which law of imperative verbs is the most important) writer who will grab her 'ideas', mould, shape and form them into some kind of semblance of order which won't make *blood pour from a reader's eyeballs and proceed to type them up into a story for her.
To which she will then put her name.
And sell a million in a morning because she's who she is.
At least Martine McCutcheon had the grace to write her 'book' herself.  I'm guessing.  Judging from the excerpt I read and the hundredweight of tissues I had to use to soak up *the blood.

Things my parents used to say that I'm (scarily) starting to agree with...

1.There truly aren't enough hours in the day.
After having scoffed at the ridiculousness of this statement (backed up by scientific research into time management- probably) for years, now I'm, ahem... older - I can actually *smell* time passing faster than it used to. Anyone else getting a whiff of it?
2.There really is a Time and a Place. Makes perfect sense really, doesn't it? And if you don't believe me (or them) then you only have to watch an episode of Dr Who for absolute confirmation.
3.Don't spend what you haven't got. Blimey. In today's mental economic climate, how true, how true... mum and dad didn't buy anything on the HP. The mortgage was their only debt therefore they never had a foreign holiday and only ever bought stuff for the house after fleecing my brother and I into paying 'Housekeeping' for the weeks we'd been away on holiday. Win-win (to them). One year we came back to find half the Cotswolds in our living room in the form of a tacky fireplace (with alcoves) which stretched the entire wall.
3.Make do and Mend. Ta-dah! E-Bay. Need I elaborate?
4.It's better to arrive 20 minutes late than 20 years early.My dad used to say this during every car journey we ever took and I always groaned because he never went over the speed limit even when my bladder was stretched to its capacity and we still had another five million potholes to navigate - through. Now, though, it makes perfect sense.
5.You can't do any more than Your Best.I used to think this was another way of saying 'Go away, you hopeless non-achiever and carry on counting ants in the back garden.' But it's an undeniable truth.
6.There's nothing better than a cup of tea, a dog at your feet and the love of a good wo/man.Apart from substituting the dog at my feet for a bloody good book, I'd have to say that's pretty much spot on!
There are loads others but now I want to, I can't think of them.
Anyone got any corkers?!

My Personal Fritter

Remember Spam Fritters at school? Loved them. I think I loved the way all that cooking oil and fat seeped out when you cut into them - and they were salty - weren't they? (the memory tends to also fritter with age) am almost certain they were salty. And you either loved them or loathed them. Like the proverbial Marmite conundrum.
Pineapple Fritters. Remember them? Where did they come from? Were they on the Chinese menu? I don't remember where but I do remember they were there. Didn't like 'em. Too sweet. I mean - you wouldn't batter and deep fry a banana, now would you? Ah, okay then.
And I knew someone once who liked to fritter and deep fry a Mars bar or two. Couldn't quite manage it properly but they had a go.
How about weekends?
Hell, why not go the whole hog and fritter a whole week - no, make that two - a whole Frittered Fortnight... Mmmm now doesn't that get your taste buds going?!
Method: Dust the time well with very good intentions spiced with ideas a-plenty and every determination to rise early and pack as much into it as humanly possible and then just sit back and watch your efforts soar with success...
Oh... I'm a sucker for a Fritter - I'm just so damned good at Frittering. I could Fritter for England. I could go on Britain's Got Talent and Fritter (more interesting than watching some guy try and beat the World Record for Ferrero Rocher consumption I would guarantee). I should have a degree in Frittering.
Best laid plans -vs- a nice tasty Fritter?
No competition!