Each key I strike wastes valuable polar bears...
I forgot the council were coming to rewire all the houses in this area. To be honest, I'd rather hoped that they'd forgotten, too. Alas, we got a letter today - they'll be invading our homes starting Wednesday, drawing up plans to absolutely ruin our decor.
Surprisingly, it's not the looming repainting job I'm worried about. I have, after all, recently discovered that I rather like painting and decorating. It's the fact that I now have to tidy my room.
"But," you might protest, "we thought that since moving house you'd turned over a new leaf! Your room was supposed to be the pinnacle of tidiness, was it not?"
Not so much. In recent weeks I've yet again been spending more room downstairs at my computer, where it's easy to do a bit of research here and there, or have five minutes on Twitter to let my brain recover from whatever project's currently occupying me. Plus I have more desk space down here. Consequently, my room's fallen into a sort of disrepair. I use it for sleeping and getting dressed; that's about it. The desk's full of stuff I've just dumped there and there are clothes all over the floor.
I find a room like that utterly unusable for anything other than sleeping. So, rewiring survey or not, I think it's about time I tidied the place up.
Anyway, creative pursuits have been coming along well. I've started work on a ridiculously complicated cover for my novel; a kind of art nouveau, 1960's concert poster affair. I thought it would be fitting, considering what my novel's about and when it's set. So far I've drawn out an elaborate border, a couch with a hand sticking out of it, a postbox in a field of gigantic mushrooms and some circular psychedelic designs. Because I fail utterly at drawing cars, I've employed Ashley, who's fantastic, to draw the 1984 Volvo 340 for me. It's flying, leaving a trail of swirly colours behind it.
Now I just need to think of a good way to stick all these images together. I've drawn them all separately so I can scan them in (if my Dad ever replaces his now useless scanner) and compose the cover digitally.
Today, I shall confess, has been uneventful. I wrote a few church fillers, an entertainment story and that was about it, really. I've got one story left to finish on a fundraising event for a lymphoma patient that can only be completed once I actually manage to get the organiser at his phone.
Anyway, while the electric's nearly gone (we've had a superbly thrifty weekend to the point where I'm not even allowed to breathe in the living room's heat) I'll have to log off. I'll write something a little more meaningful tomorrow!
Surprisingly, it's not the looming repainting job I'm worried about. I have, after all, recently discovered that I rather like painting and decorating. It's the fact that I now have to tidy my room.
"But," you might protest, "we thought that since moving house you'd turned over a new leaf! Your room was supposed to be the pinnacle of tidiness, was it not?"
Not so much. In recent weeks I've yet again been spending more room downstairs at my computer, where it's easy to do a bit of research here and there, or have five minutes on Twitter to let my brain recover from whatever project's currently occupying me. Plus I have more desk space down here. Consequently, my room's fallen into a sort of disrepair. I use it for sleeping and getting dressed; that's about it. The desk's full of stuff I've just dumped there and there are clothes all over the floor.
I find a room like that utterly unusable for anything other than sleeping. So, rewiring survey or not, I think it's about time I tidied the place up.
Anyway, creative pursuits have been coming along well. I've started work on a ridiculously complicated cover for my novel; a kind of art nouveau, 1960's concert poster affair. I thought it would be fitting, considering what my novel's about and when it's set. So far I've drawn out an elaborate border, a couch with a hand sticking out of it, a postbox in a field of gigantic mushrooms and some circular psychedelic designs. Because I fail utterly at drawing cars, I've employed Ashley, who's fantastic, to draw the 1984 Volvo 340 for me. It's flying, leaving a trail of swirly colours behind it.
Now I just need to think of a good way to stick all these images together. I've drawn them all separately so I can scan them in (if my Dad ever replaces his now useless scanner) and compose the cover digitally.
Today, I shall confess, has been uneventful. I wrote a few church fillers, an entertainment story and that was about it, really. I've got one story left to finish on a fundraising event for a lymphoma patient that can only be completed once I actually manage to get the organiser at his phone.
Anyway, while the electric's nearly gone (we've had a superbly thrifty weekend to the point where I'm not even allowed to breathe in the living room's heat) I'll have to log off. I'll write something a little more meaningful tomorrow!