Minor grumbles only
Today has been a long slog trying to deal with my computer and the internet and my internet connection. It was especial fun when they all disintegrated at the same time. It lost me so much of my working day that I may have to skip tomorrow night's CSFG meeting. It all depends on how much I catch up between now and then, I guess.
When things went too peculiar and needed settling time, I tried working on the netbook (which sometimes helped and sometimes made things worse, because a component of my curious day was obviously my ISP having a bad day) and then I gave up and did more of the sorting of strange sections of my flat. I was looking for the missing power cord for my cassette player, but it still hasn't appeared. A lot else has, though. Not even the burglar got as far into my lost possessions as I managed, today.
All this excitement was in lieu of other things. I only wrote 1500 words. I need to do another 2000 before bed, and then I can face tomorrow. Tomorrow will still be busy, but it won't be quite as impossible. The problem is, of course, that I didn't achieve much today, but I spent a lot of energy in the process and I want time out for good behaviour.
Today, all in all, was a bit of a mystery to me. Part of the mystery is how all this housework can result in a flat that's just as messy as before. Other people do cleaning that results in the things being cleaned actually looking nice, why doesn't that work for me?
What I want to do is go to my storeroom and take out all my Abbey Girl books and read them in bed for three days, while drinking much tea. At least I can manage the tea. And if I write my 2000 words quickly I can possibly watch some Dr Who.
When things went too peculiar and needed settling time, I tried working on the netbook (which sometimes helped and sometimes made things worse, because a component of my curious day was obviously my ISP having a bad day) and then I gave up and did more of the sorting of strange sections of my flat. I was looking for the missing power cord for my cassette player, but it still hasn't appeared. A lot else has, though. Not even the burglar got as far into my lost possessions as I managed, today.
All this excitement was in lieu of other things. I only wrote 1500 words. I need to do another 2000 before bed, and then I can face tomorrow. Tomorrow will still be busy, but it won't be quite as impossible. The problem is, of course, that I didn't achieve much today, but I spent a lot of energy in the process and I want time out for good behaviour.
Today, all in all, was a bit of a mystery to me. Part of the mystery is how all this housework can result in a flat that's just as messy as before. Other people do cleaning that results in the things being cleaned actually looking nice, why doesn't that work for me?
What I want to do is go to my storeroom and take out all my Abbey Girl books and read them in bed for three days, while drinking much tea. At least I can manage the tea. And if I write my 2000 words quickly I can possibly watch some Dr Who.
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