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Après-shop
Nov. 1st, 2006 01:07 pmBleah. There's really not much point waking up at 6.00am, if you don't get up till nine.
So I'm a day late and a dollar short, and it isn't even lunchtime. I've only written one page today, and it will not be lunchtime until I have written at least one more; I am firm on this. My only excuse is that I am again officially sick, and I did have to go into town this morning to get my prescriptions filled. Honest, guv.
While there, of course, I took advantage of the opportunity; I shopped. Only for essentials: bread and jeans, largely. And I left the bread in the bank and had to go running back for it and of course it wasn't there; so then I had to go wheezingly to the main desk and tell them that I'd left a loaf of bread in a carrier bag and it wasn't a bomb, honest, it wouldn't blow anybody up. And she smiled and said it was okay, they'd already sniffed it, and it looked like really good bread. So I explained it was the best bread in town, genuinely artisanal, and told her where to get it (Cafe Royal, on Nelson St), and we had happy foodie talk until I'd stopped wheezing.
And then I bought jeans, on a whim. Well, not exactly a whim, I was down to my last two pairs. I do like buying new clothes, even basics that I don't even need to unfold, let alone try on. Thing about jeans is, I am the Man in Black (if we stipulate that red and pink are occasional aspects of black), but mostly of course I'm not, because denim gets so exhausted by washing I am generally Man in Shades of Grey. I have been heard to say that I only like them when they start to rot, and this is true; but it is also false, because I do also like 'em when they're new, when they're genuinely black. Starting tomorrow, hurrah, en route to Cambridge, I shall have black legs again.
Also, books. It's a train journey, this is official reading-space, and I have books! More, I have LJ-books, which I think must now be an official category. Thanks to my beloved publishers across the water, I have an ARC of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
greygirlbeast's "Daughter of Hounds", and matociquala's "Blood and Iron" (which I'm already into, and enjoying immensely: complex and hurtful, encounters that leave barbs beneath the skin, I love this kind of writing. And the fantasy, the invention of it feels so very solid: a work of craft and skill, rather than flat-pack); thanks to my favourite online bookseller, I have scott_lynch's "The Lies of Locke Lamora". I'm a happy man.
So I'm a day late and a dollar short, and it isn't even lunchtime. I've only written one page today, and it will not be lunchtime until I have written at least one more; I am firm on this. My only excuse is that I am again officially sick, and I did have to go into town this morning to get my prescriptions filled. Honest, guv.
While there, of course, I took advantage of the opportunity; I shopped. Only for essentials: bread and jeans, largely. And I left the bread in the bank and had to go running back for it and of course it wasn't there; so then I had to go wheezingly to the main desk and tell them that I'd left a loaf of bread in a carrier bag and it wasn't a bomb, honest, it wouldn't blow anybody up. And she smiled and said it was okay, they'd already sniffed it, and it looked like really good bread. So I explained it was the best bread in town, genuinely artisanal, and told her where to get it (Cafe Royal, on Nelson St), and we had happy foodie talk until I'd stopped wheezing.
And then I bought jeans, on a whim. Well, not exactly a whim, I was down to my last two pairs. I do like buying new clothes, even basics that I don't even need to unfold, let alone try on. Thing about jeans is, I am the Man in Black (if we stipulate that red and pink are occasional aspects of black), but mostly of course I'm not, because denim gets so exhausted by washing I am generally Man in Shades of Grey. I have been heard to say that I only like them when they start to rot, and this is true; but it is also false, because I do also like 'em when they're new, when they're genuinely black. Starting tomorrow, hurrah, en route to Cambridge, I shall have black legs again.
Also, books. It's a train journey, this is official reading-space, and I have books! More, I have LJ-books, which I think must now be an official category. Thanks to my beloved publishers across the water, I have an ARC of
greygirlbeast's "Daughter of Hounds", and matociquala's "Blood and Iron" (which I'm already into, and enjoying immensely: complex and hurtful, encounters that leave barbs beneath the skin, I love this kind of writing. And the fantasy, the invention of it feels so very solid: a work of craft and skill, rather than flat-pack); thanks to my favourite online bookseller, I have scott_lynch's "The Lies of Locke Lamora". I'm a happy man.