gillpolack @ 2015-01-21T11:02:00
Yesterday I was inundated by incoming weather. I did some admin and pondered what a difference weather pattern makes. I also ate many pain relievers. Today it's the tail end of weather and I shall enthusiastically cheer its passing.
Today, also, I need to get an introduction entirely sorted to a clean first draft. I'm still unhappy with it and have been for several days, but my new deadline is tomorrow and it's non-negotiable if I want to meet any other deadline. Right now I'm plagued by its dullness. Fiction is easier to make less dull. And both bad jokes and footnotes are prohibited. I would sulk if that were permitted, but it's also forbidden (mostly by me). Anyhow, I'm about to go to the library and then I shall work away at edits and rethinks until I meet my goal. Some people edit and rethink to music, I shall be editing and rethinking to either Warehouse 13 or Haven, depending on what the library has.
I was very impressed at myself when I looked at my list of tasks for the month and realised I was 2/3 of the way through it. All those things crossed off! Then I looked at the date. January has escaped me...
I had a serious post to make here about writing, but it can wait. I'm too busy wondering how I can have done the requisite work, crossed off the tasks from my list, and not realised that this was precisely matched by passing time. Mostly this means I need sleep, which will happen when the weather settles and I switch from one period in my body's timeclock to another.
I don't sleep much at this time of month, especially when the weather does a shifty direction-change on me and there are storms. I always, always get interesting dreams however. Last night's best one was in technicolour about NY and editors and about the brightest opals (Mine, but scattered everywhere and needing to be picked up, in fairytale fashion, one at a time - if I'm a vampire then it's not mixed grains you want to scatter in front of me, it's black opals) and about regaining my precious handbag.
Speaking of handbags and preciousness, I need to load up my non-dream one and go to the library. The handbag is not precious: I am.*
*Select your own meaning. It's like choose your own adventure, only with more potential for sarcasm.
Today, also, I need to get an introduction entirely sorted to a clean first draft. I'm still unhappy with it and have been for several days, but my new deadline is tomorrow and it's non-negotiable if I want to meet any other deadline. Right now I'm plagued by its dullness. Fiction is easier to make less dull. And both bad jokes and footnotes are prohibited. I would sulk if that were permitted, but it's also forbidden (mostly by me). Anyhow, I'm about to go to the library and then I shall work away at edits and rethinks until I meet my goal. Some people edit and rethink to music, I shall be editing and rethinking to either Warehouse 13 or Haven, depending on what the library has.
I was very impressed at myself when I looked at my list of tasks for the month and realised I was 2/3 of the way through it. All those things crossed off! Then I looked at the date. January has escaped me...
I had a serious post to make here about writing, but it can wait. I'm too busy wondering how I can have done the requisite work, crossed off the tasks from my list, and not realised that this was precisely matched by passing time. Mostly this means I need sleep, which will happen when the weather settles and I switch from one period in my body's timeclock to another.
I don't sleep much at this time of month, especially when the weather does a shifty direction-change on me and there are storms. I always, always get interesting dreams however. Last night's best one was in technicolour about NY and editors and about the brightest opals (Mine, but scattered everywhere and needing to be picked up, in fairytale fashion, one at a time - if I'm a vampire then it's not mixed grains you want to scatter in front of me, it's black opals) and about regaining my precious handbag.
Speaking of handbags and preciousness, I need to load up my non-dream one and go to the library. The handbag is not precious: I am.*
*Select your own meaning. It's like choose your own adventure, only with more potential for sarcasm.
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