COLD

Too cold. I hate it.

Yesterday I did post here, but Blogger ate it and I never got a chance to get back to it.

Did great on my piano test for the first two pieces, then my mind went walkabout and I completely screwed the last piece. Dangit. I worked hard on that, too, but I was just too tired.

Wrote notes on the book yesterday, because I was too busy to write downstairs, and when I went up to 296 Carol was waiting with her Latest Big Project that needs my creative touch. So, no words on the page, but I the notes concerned the map of Skyview I need to finish before the re-write.

A Rest

That's what I finally got last night. Yes, I woke up about ten times, but last night I actually got back to sleep every time. I don't feel rested, but I don't feel exhausted either.

Kate sent chapter nine to me last Friday, and I'd like to reciprocate soon with chapter 10. How can something so fun as writing be so traumatic at the same time?

Time and Space

Finally a good day, at least for getting things done. My desk is clear, if not my mind. I intend to sleep tomorrow until I am finished, even if that means being mean to Birdie. Tuesday is my second hearing (piano test), and I need work, and I need to do housework, but most importantly, I need to sleep.

Parker almost sounds angry in chapter ten. I wonder why I don't do emotion very well, even when I'm faking it (aka fiction)?

They're Coming

The words, that is. Still getting down on paper, but it's so damned slow. Sometimes I want to throttle the kids I see loafing around. Wish I had that kind of free time.

And if I don't start getting some good sleep soon, I think I may go completely insane. My brain feels like mush most of the time now, rather than about half the time. Hmph.

Scary Places

For some reason, pawn shops are kinda scary to me. Even the one in town that I go to now and then. They smell strongly of dirty men and auto oil, and are inhabited by people I know not to trust. That's why one is going into the book.

Something else that's scary? My ability to NOT scream at boys who come into my office, sit in the guest chair and snuffle snot rather than blowing their nose.

Birdie stayed home sick today. She got a bad case of poison ivy and is in the fever stage. Unfortunately, she probably got it dragging big limbs in my yard last weekend. Of course, that leaves me to drive home alone tonight on about three quarters of an inch of ice. I *will* be walking up the hill when I get home tonight after class.

...if I make it home.

Back on Track

After a frightening bit of "I don't want to work on it anymore", I've gotten back into it. Parker takes on a dead guy, mano a mano, and grays out for a moment from the shock of a really hard tackle.

I did that once, when I "tackled" our prop forward after being loaned to Purdue for a rugby game. I woke up to find my team all the way on the other side of the pitch, still playing, and two fans standing over me laughing. I was out for a little longer than Parker, but I still remember that play - or most of it. *laugh* The reason they were laughing? I knocked myself out, hitting her that hard, but didn't manage to do more than trip her a little.

Anyway, I've done some hundreds of words, and expect to do more when I get upstairs - unless Professor Kennedy snags me to work on that damned tee shirt. Parker and Kelsey are starting to have words. They're both tired and cranky with the whole end-of-the-world thing, and just as they're both about to say fuck off to each other, they hear the cop. The one with the GUN.

Ah...but how do you get a gun out of the holster of a zombie? *g*

Ideas

While driving to work this morning we passed a beautiful field of trees shrouded in dense fog caressing the lower trunks. Made me think of a story, a fantasy story no less, called Sea of Mist.

I don't know if I'll get any writing done today. My brain is total mush. Not even close to enough sleep lately, took an Advil PM last night, and allergies on top of that. I'm actually kinda suffering right now at my desk, I'm so tired.