let's get lost, me & you
Been feeling terrifically topsy-turvy of late -- more an hour-by-hour thing than "yesterday was rubbish but today is rather nice". Lots of whoosh. I don't like it very much; I'd like to be simply and effectively clear-headed. Then I feel like a rational creature and I get things done. (Although I worry that if I get too clear-headed I realise the full magnitude of sundry worries, failures, and faults, and get horribly sick ... )
Jonathan fixed the laptop I was using last summer, so here I am interneting in my bedroom, carefully propping up the screen with pillows, so that if the velcro stick gives way, the screen won't fall backwards and turn the computer off and possibly destroy it forever, it'll just -- slump a little. Anyway, the bedroom laptop is good, because as I recall last time things were thus, I spent less time on the internet, but got more done. (There is the initial "INTERNET!!!" phase in which one spends too much time at Tv Tropes and posts on Twitter every ten minutes, but that wanes, eventually.) I may even show up on instant message clients ever so often. You never know. (Also I am using an OS that is not Windows for the first time in my life. It is quite curious, but surprisingly not very difficult to get accustomed to.)
But really I am hoping to get some writing done. I am writing a short story which I will not describe, because talking about anything I happen to work on seems to lead inevitably to its premature demise, but I am wavering between liking it a lot and not liking the direction it's taking (my narrator's voice isn't as good as it as it started out; I actually have no firsthand knowledge of how high school works, and since high school is, by requirement, a large part of this poor story, I am floundering miserably). At least I am writing, though, yeah? Perhaps I might even take a very very deep breath and plunge back into the Evangeline story ...
The Day Off has been a moderate success: books came in for me at the library, and I went out to fetch them -- and, ah, the local candy shop is right on the way home; it was utterly unavoidable. Look, if peppermint truffles were whispering your name, how well could you hold out? I THOUGHT AS MUCH. And I have just finished the task that I end up having every day off: cleaning the bedroom. What with work and being profoundly depressed a lot lately it has been getting into its disaster state more quickly and thoroughly than ever of late.
Jonathan fixed the laptop I was using last summer, so here I am interneting in my bedroom, carefully propping up the screen with pillows, so that if the velcro stick gives way, the screen won't fall backwards and turn the computer off and possibly destroy it forever, it'll just -- slump a little. Anyway, the bedroom laptop is good, because as I recall last time things were thus, I spent less time on the internet, but got more done. (There is the initial "INTERNET!!!" phase in which one spends too much time at Tv Tropes and posts on Twitter every ten minutes, but that wanes, eventually.) I may even show up on instant message clients ever so often. You never know. (Also I am using an OS that is not Windows for the first time in my life. It is quite curious, but surprisingly not very difficult to get accustomed to.)
But really I am hoping to get some writing done. I am writing a short story which I will not describe, because talking about anything I happen to work on seems to lead inevitably to its premature demise, but I am wavering between liking it a lot and not liking the direction it's taking (my narrator's voice isn't as good as it as it started out; I actually have no firsthand knowledge of how high school works, and since high school is, by requirement, a large part of this poor story, I am floundering miserably). At least I am writing, though, yeah? Perhaps I might even take a very very deep breath and plunge back into the Evangeline story ...
The Day Off has been a moderate success: books came in for me at the library, and I went out to fetch them -- and, ah, the local candy shop is right on the way home; it was utterly unavoidable. Look, if peppermint truffles were whispering your name, how well could you hold out? I THOUGHT AS MUCH. And I have just finished the task that I end up having every day off: cleaning the bedroom. What with work and being profoundly depressed a lot lately it has been getting into its disaster state more quickly and thoroughly than ever of late.