When I’m not working, I write stories. That’s what my fictionpress profile says.
And maaaan, I have been working a lot lately! But I say with some relief that my weekend job is finally wrapping up. An ex-colleague of mine recently said that there’s never enough time. Free time is like a vacuum filled quickly by the everyday trudge. I hope my extra time is filled with writing... we shall see. It was never about the money, though having said that, I will miss the extra income for sure. No more monthly gold class movies. Life is hard. Cry for me.
It’s about time that I started to focus on writing again. The process of querying (aka the process of rejection) seems to have overtaken me somewhat and I find that I’m not writing as much. The bi-monthly writing contests on the labyrinth forum are about as much as I have been able to manage. But with Saturdays reclaimed, I am hopeful for next month.
It’s amazing what a difference vitamins can make. Doctors aren’t my favourite people. They’re nice enough, but they never seem to do anything for me. I’ve been prescribed antibiotics a number of times in the past year which have had no effect on my health (let alone my overall wellbeing). Recently I went crawling to my pharmacist friend who gave me some foul smelling powder and pills so large that they could have been daunting suppositories. I call them miracle drugs because without them, I wouldn’t have made it through the last week. So that’s pretty cool. I wonder if I’ve solved my sickness problem.
Next week I am going to the States for the first time. I am excited at the prospect and daunted by the 15 hour flight. Anyone who knows me knows that I am not fond of flying, and that lack of fondness tends to dampen the fondness of the passengers around me... especially when I projectile vomit on them. My sister has never forgiven me for what I did to her copy of The Courtship of Princess Leia. Word soon spread that I was not to be trusted with books on aeroplanes. I’ve tried pretending that I’m flying with Emron and Tessa, hoping that some of their impervious glee will rub off on me. It doesn’t work.
Don’t weep for me. Weep for my partner.
I’m hoping to get my hands on something that will knock me out completely. Seriously. Anything short of a mallet to the skull may be what we need to avoid an international incident.
And maaaan, I have been working a lot lately! But I say with some relief that my weekend job is finally wrapping up. An ex-colleague of mine recently said that there’s never enough time. Free time is like a vacuum filled quickly by the everyday trudge. I hope my extra time is filled with writing... we shall see. It was never about the money, though having said that, I will miss the extra income for sure. No more monthly gold class movies. Life is hard. Cry for me.
It’s about time that I started to focus on writing again. The process of querying (aka the process of rejection) seems to have overtaken me somewhat and I find that I’m not writing as much. The bi-monthly writing contests on the labyrinth forum are about as much as I have been able to manage. But with Saturdays reclaimed, I am hopeful for next month.
It’s amazing what a difference vitamins can make. Doctors aren’t my favourite people. They’re nice enough, but they never seem to do anything for me. I’ve been prescribed antibiotics a number of times in the past year which have had no effect on my health (let alone my overall wellbeing). Recently I went crawling to my pharmacist friend who gave me some foul smelling powder and pills so large that they could have been daunting suppositories. I call them miracle drugs because without them, I wouldn’t have made it through the last week. So that’s pretty cool. I wonder if I’ve solved my sickness problem.
Next week I am going to the States for the first time. I am excited at the prospect and daunted by the 15 hour flight. Anyone who knows me knows that I am not fond of flying, and that lack of fondness tends to dampen the fondness of the passengers around me... especially when I projectile vomit on them. My sister has never forgiven me for what I did to her copy of The Courtship of Princess Leia. Word soon spread that I was not to be trusted with books on aeroplanes. I’ve tried pretending that I’m flying with Emron and Tessa, hoping that some of their impervious glee will rub off on me. It doesn’t work.
Don’t weep for me. Weep for my partner.
I’m hoping to get my hands on something that will knock me out completely. Seriously. Anything short of a mallet to the skull may be what we need to avoid an international incident.
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