Still wading through mud. Grimly. Where is the carefree canter of yesteryear? Or last week, even? (Hah! I was never carefree. The angst must be part of my charm, if I have any. Someone called me charming last night, and I'm clinging to that, like a child cupping their hands around a feather in a wind.)
So this is clearly going to be a 600-page draft. I could have lived without this, but there it is. Here it is. Or will be. At the end of this week, I hope - but I have rehearsals all tomorrow, tech & performance on Wednesday, performance Thursday... All interspersed with Iolanthe and Pratchett class and I don't know what else.
My life feels - random, where it ought to be focused. And I still feel bleah. I have the lights on and the fire on, both of which are unusual when I'm working; thoughts of going to bed - the snuggliness of duvets, particularly - distract me. Constantly.
Also, big fight scene coming up. I hate fight scenes. What do I know from fights? Give me the complexities of the human heart to unravel, and I'm happy. Fight scenes, not so much.
*sighs*
*sniffs*
*takes fresh guard - or in this case fresh coffee - and goes to bat again*
So this is clearly going to be a 600-page draft. I could have lived without this, but there it is. Here it is. Or will be. At the end of this week, I hope - but I have rehearsals all tomorrow, tech & performance on Wednesday, performance Thursday... All interspersed with Iolanthe and Pratchett class and I don't know what else.
My life feels - random, where it ought to be focused. And I still feel bleah. I have the lights on and the fire on, both of which are unusual when I'm working; thoughts of going to bed - the snuggliness of duvets, particularly - distract me. Constantly.
Also, big fight scene coming up. I hate fight scenes. What do I know from fights? Give me the complexities of the human heart to unravel, and I'm happy. Fight scenes, not so much.
*sighs*
*sniffs*
*takes fresh guard - or in this case fresh coffee - and goes to bat again*