I need somebody who can write An App For That, because man, there is a thing I want an app for and I can’t find anything like it on the interwebs. The closest thing I can find are to-do lists and self-discipline apps and life coach apps, none of which really do what I want. It’s something that you could run on your mobile or whatever although what I REALLY need for it is a Smart Wall or something in my house (I guess the tv would do) and it…
I had a little stress-induced breakdown this week (mentioned earlier under the cunning title “rage bot murder machine” or something like that) and consequently Ted sent me away for a weekend writing retreat this weekend. My primary goal going in was to get the REDEEMER manuscipt to 90,000 words (about 4/5ths done), and my secondary goal was to write 15,000 words if I could (these two goals were separated by a wordcount of about 1500 words). I wrote about 16,000 words, which comes out (roughly) to about 53 pages of…
I’m going to have to do something about the fact that my Computer That Goes Clunk can no longer run any image manipulation programs (the failed update that caused it to start Going Clunk had something to do with the graphics card, and even *booting* photoshop elements is now impossible), because I’m running low on the handful of Photo Friday images I’d prepped. Fortunately (?) I’ve been doing such a bad job remembering to post them they’ve lasted a while… :} Reflection on the Grand Canal in Athy, Co Kildare,…
…little girl ’cause it hurts like hell I wouldn’t have thought I’d have two posts to make about David Bowie, but then, I wouldn’t have really thought I’d have *one* post to make about him, so what do I know? I’ve spent most of the last two evenings, when I’m not writing, going through my FB friends’ list and listening to all the Bowie songs they’ve linked to. Or rather, that was my plan. What actually happened was that on Monday evening a friend posted, “So I’ve been working on…
Yesterday I woke up a rage machine murder bot. Ted suggested I stay home from the thing I was supposed to do and work instead, as the combination of the thing I was supposed to do and having done *no work* lately were the basic components of my rage, and although I should have done the thing I had a giant hot chocolate with a lot of whipped cream and wrote instead, and by noon I had mostly (mostly) thrown off the desire to murder absolutely everything. I had to…