Driving at night. Drips down the window

Have just managed to get up to speed. The 5000 words that I lost on the PC when I was away are now written, though not as well as they were the last time. I guess I expected that. I was writing in my stride when I was away, and the words had power and authenticity. I was feeling proud of them, at last. And then, don't they say, pride comes before a fall , and they were taken from me. The words that are in their place now are clunky and weak. But they must do until the second draft at least.

I sat and looked out the window today at the rain, and my cat sat next to me looking out of the window. The two of us, doing nothing but feeling cat like and at peace. I could not get on with anything today. I gave into it, watching the drips on the window and remembering car journeys at night lying on the back seat, listening to the drama on Radio four while my parents drove me home. What a perfect time it was.