wargh.

Came down to Cork yesterday. Met a nice American couple on the train and chatted with them all the way, thus ensuring I wouldn’t get any work done. Current wordcount: 2000 words behind schedule.

Ted has done a massive job of packing up. There is no living room, there are only boxes. The bedroom is by and large a mass of suitcases. The kitchen is…actually, right now it looks like a disaster area, but it’s the sort of disaster area that, with about an hour’s work, will be entirely packed up. I’m going to do that today. That, and take the art down and spackle in the holes we’ve left in the walls.

I also need to upload the last two weeks’ worth of Project365 pictures. I’m torn on whether to use a photo from the Eric Clapton concert last night or the great shot I took of a redhead on the LUAS for yesterday’s photo… (eta: I’m an idiot. I only brought one camera down with me. Most of the Project365 photos are on the *other* one…)

The concert was great. It wasn’t the best I’ve been to, in part because I don’t know Clapton’s music (I knew two songs, and one of them only sort-of), but man that guy can play a guitar. He looks like he’s just somebody’s dad, but man, he can play a guitar. :) We had a very good time. :)

And now I’m either sicker than a dog or badly affected by the dust and stuff in the air here, which reminds me I should take allergy medicine in case it’s that and not illness, but I’ve also got two canker sores (side by side, the little bastards), which is often an indication of illness in me. Of course, it’s also an indication of stress. Anyway. I need to take a shower, leave the house to get something to eat, buy spackle, come back, pack the kitchen, take the art down, fill in holes in the walls, and…do laundry. I’m not getting /any/ writing done this weekend, am I? Well, that’s why I figured if I got another 10K done by Thursday next I’d be doing really well. Oh well.

Onward.