It isn’t particularly easy to travel, even short distances like into Dublin and back, without eating an incredible amount of junk food. Bus stations and things don’t have a lot that’s especially good for you, or not laden with sugar. None the less, I managed to get through the weekend without sugar, because I maintain that the cereal I had which tasted exactly like Cracker Jacks was not intentionally a sugar binge. Anyway, so that’s three days down, and hopefully this week will be a bit easier in the cravings…
four down, one to go
Ok, four of five stories are done for my upcoming Fiction Week. The fifth is about halfway done, ish. I will begin five days of fiction posting on Monday. The astute amongst you may notice that I am writing this at 1:30 in the morning, my time. This is not a good sign. It’s particularly not a good sign the night before the Nickelback concert, which will keep me up too late tomorrow. I should be happily asleep while visions of rock stars dance through my head. Instead I’m awake…
Ms. Crankypants
I’m feeling like a bit of a Ms. Crankypants this morning. I have not had all of my band gear stolen like the Young Dubliners have, and I have not my printer and scanner and Money Frog change stolen like Ursula, so I feel like a bit of a twit for being a grump, but I am anyway. *sigh* Maybe I should just get away from the computer and go try to do something constructive. Or destructive. :p
hsm.
One of my short stories isn’t working. I’ve approached it wrong, and I don’t know if it matters enough to come at it again from a different angle. Or, perhaps, if I’ve got enough of a grasp on it in the first place to make it work. Or, perhaps, if the problem is that I spent yesterday sleeping and today cleaning and haven’t actually tried hard enough to make it work. I may give it another stab tomorrow. I hope it works; my well of short stories does not run…
House: 0; Kit & Ted: 1
Also, cats: 0; Kit: 2 After yesterday’s eye-mooshing allergy fit (my eye is much better today), this morning was spent in a cleaning fit. Everything has been vacuumed within an inch of its life, including the cats, at least metaphorically. I have washed them. They are not at all happy about this, but at least I was nice enough to lock them in a room with the heat turned all the way up after subjecting them first to the indignity of a shower and then the blowdryer. There was yowling…