In which Elbie is taking a break between handwriting her NaNovel and typing it.
So I'm standing there at work, wondering why I already have split ends again, and the phone rings.
Mom called her cousin Amazon Annie* to make an appointment to get her hair did, and got me in this Friday at 2 to get mine done too.
Eerie coincidence? Are my mother and I developing telepathy? (Not as scary as it may have been ten years ago.) Or does she just love me and want me to look pretty?
Either way, I'm getting my hair did! I'll let her talk me out of my moratorium on hair dye - I've given up on having a Rogue/Bonnie Raitt white streak. For now.
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I've written quite a bit today, and I have ideas for more.
I just gotta work up the willpower to type it up so I know my new word count.
My Muse has been flitting around, sparkly and over-caffeinated, muttering "ooh, and then...", which is usually a good sign. I hope to wrap up this current chapter by tomorrow. And be caught up by Thanksgiving, if not sooner. In fact, I'd like to be ahead by then so I can concentrate on eating and playing football in the Joe Bowl.
Think I'd better eat before I start typing, simply because my fingers are steadier when my blood sugar's up. And it'll leave both hands free. And it's hard to type on an empty stomach. (Cue some wiseacre saying "shouldn't you be typing on a keyboard, not your stomach?")
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*-I think I've mentioned Amazon Annie here before. She's closer to my age than Mom's (long story that needs a graph), she's a beautician, and she's six foot tall. No lie. Athletic - she can beat a grown man at basketball. And she's absolutely gorgeous. I think my Inner Lesbian** wants to be her when she grows up.
**-I've been mentioning her a lot lately, haven't I?
Mom called her cousin Amazon Annie* to make an appointment to get her hair did, and got me in this Friday at 2 to get mine done too.
Eerie coincidence? Are my mother and I developing telepathy? (Not as scary as it may have been ten years ago.) Or does she just love me and want me to look pretty?
Either way, I'm getting my hair did! I'll let her talk me out of my moratorium on hair dye - I've given up on having a Rogue/Bonnie Raitt white streak. For now.
__________________________________________________
I've written quite a bit today, and I have ideas for more.
I just gotta work up the willpower to type it up so I know my new word count.
My Muse has been flitting around, sparkly and over-caffeinated, muttering "ooh, and then...", which is usually a good sign. I hope to wrap up this current chapter by tomorrow. And be caught up by Thanksgiving, if not sooner. In fact, I'd like to be ahead by then so I can concentrate on eating and playing football in the Joe Bowl.
Think I'd better eat before I start typing, simply because my fingers are steadier when my blood sugar's up. And it'll leave both hands free. And it's hard to type on an empty stomach. (Cue some wiseacre saying "shouldn't you be typing on a keyboard, not your stomach?")
__________________________________________________
*-I think I've mentioned Amazon Annie here before. She's closer to my age than Mom's (long story that needs a graph), she's a beautician, and she's six foot tall. No lie. Athletic - she can beat a grown man at basketball. And she's absolutely gorgeous. I think my Inner Lesbian** wants to be her when she grows up.
**-I've been mentioning her a lot lately, haven't I?