Am at home. Where ought I to be...?

Whoops. It goes like this: I have an established routine for these days where I'm trying to work in different ways on two different books at once. I get up early, I write a page or two of the urban fantasy. Then I go into town and settle down for a long session at the Lit & Phil with the copy-edit. Then I come home about four or five o'clock, and hope to write two or three more pages before I fall over. Book sandwich, with extra book.

So today: up betimes, writey writey. Then into town for a meeting at the Arts Council, which is only just around the corner from the Lit & Phil. The meeting would take an hour, and then I'd be back into my routine. Except...

These bad people said "Chaz, can we take you for lunch?" And you-all know how good I am at saying no. So off we go to Pani's (which is peopled by tiny Sardinians, and we love them).

And then these bad people (who run the best second-hand bookshop in the country) say, "Oh, Chaz, we've almost sold out of your hardbacks, can we have another twenty?"

So back to my place we come, and now it's half-past one and I am at home when I should have been in the Lit & Phil since midday. And the big question is, do I go back into town to do what I can on the copy-edit, before coming back here again? Or do I abandon the copy-edit for the day, and just write more? Or do I do neither of these things, and just fall over (which is, to be honest, what I most feel like: I am sooo tired)?

I don't know. Do not know. Which is why I dither, look at e-mail, check LJ. Update LJ. Play with cat...