Advent

[desperance]

So far today, I have:

woken up with the same headache I took to bed last night, which at least demonstrates consistency, I guess*;

opened the first door on the advent calendar, and eaten the chocolate therebehind (dark choc marzipan, in the shape of a bell; and I have not encountered an advent calendar since I was a kid, when I do not believe they came with added chocolate - all I remember is pictures, and quarrelling over whose turn it was to reveal the next);

fielded a phone-call from my publisher, to learn that Bitter Waters will be a featured Indie Book of the Month in Kirkus come January;

published Light Errant on Kobo, to go alongside Dead of Light which went up yesterday and Dispossession some months back, for those of you who can use that format;

started a sourdough loaf, hurrah; and

emptied the dishwasher. Don't mock me. I am so degraded that small household tasks feel like significant achievements. This afternoon I propose to work further on the unfucking of my study, as my head - or my headache - is beyond me.


*There was also koffing in the middle of the night, but that at least seems to have passed over.