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I'm just not doing well. I wasted yesterday -- not because I spent several hours futzing around with my unfortunate friend Elizabeth who was having a much worse day than me, involving a dead car, lost keys, trying to rent an apartment, discovering several things more she'd have to fix before renting it, lost paperwork, an overdosing dog . . . No, the waste was earlier and later when I sat, as I am doing now, in front of an utterly unproductive computer.
Not utterly. But all of a sudden I'm sort of working on five things, and how did that happen? I'm working on Afterwar, of course, and of course Bella and Chain, and there's the Thou Shalt Not story which I haven't touched in three weeks and I have less than a week to complete and send, and now for some reason I've been doing a just-for-fun romance set in the world of Esperanza Highway and re-transcribing The DOnor,my old vampire novel which means rewriting it substantially, or at this stage, mostly cutting it. I added a thousand new words and cut four thousand words from the first eight thousand. Why am I doing this? And I waste most of my time at the computer anyways.
To hell with it. I've got a bunch of household tasks I could do and make the nice fellow happy. Anyway, I've been tweaking at the part of Afterwar I'm almost finished with and makig a grand timetable for it (I already had a timetable for the flood) which is revealing a lot.
My son does not listen to me about polite behavior and has created a huge disruption in my circle of friends and I refuse to be in the middle of it but he's twenty-six! He ought to understand this stuff by now! And I feel guilty because he doesn't get it.
Not utterly. But all of a sudden I'm sort of working on five things, and how did that happen? I'm working on Afterwar, of course, and of course Bella and Chain, and there's the Thou Shalt Not story which I haven't touched in three weeks and I have less than a week to complete and send, and now for some reason I've been doing a just-for-fun romance set in the world of Esperanza Highway and re-transcribing The DOnor,my old vampire novel which means rewriting it substantially, or at this stage, mostly cutting it. I added a thousand new words and cut four thousand words from the first eight thousand. Why am I doing this? And I waste most of my time at the computer anyways.
To hell with it. I've got a bunch of household tasks I could do and make the nice fellow happy. Anyway, I've been tweaking at the part of Afterwar I'm almost finished with and makig a grand timetable for it (I already had a timetable for the flood) which is revealing a lot.
My son does not listen to me about polite behavior and has created a huge disruption in my circle of friends and I refuse to be in the middle of it but he's twenty-six! He ought to understand this stuff by now! And I feel guilty because he doesn't get it.