Snows of Kilimanjaro

If Hemingway was alive today and about to write a new novel, he'd probably be sitting a bit like me know. He'd probably have had a 16 hour work day, starting before seven by handing in a draft assignment. Then he's be polishing the floorboards in the kitchen so he could paint it later in the day. He'd have müsli for breakfast and two cups of tea. Then he'd be off to work, where he'd make a cake for his colleagues. Hemingway would have been a great environmentalist, so of course he would have bicycled home from work. There he'd clean the bathroom (about time!) and start cook dinner for his wife. He'd make a delicious meal and serve Argentinean wine to it, before he'd go back upstairs and paint the kitchen. He'd be very thorough until the last few square centimetres inside the cupboard that nowone would see anyway, because now he'd start to become rather tired. He'd then walk downstairs to his wife, hoping for some action, but she would with a grunt reject him and play the headache-card. He'd sigh, as there's nothing else he could do, and he'd sit down in a comfy chair in front of the fire, with the rest of the Argentinean wine from earlier. He'd start to write some fabulous novel with only the light from the candles and his brand new superdupercool Macbook Air to enlighten him. Hell, yeah, that's what Hemingway would do if he was alive today.