Oops

Because I am kind (notes to self: don't be kind), I gave demanding boys a handful of Late Supper last night when I got in, although they had already had Early Tea (which they had quite forgotten).

Because I was/am a little distrait, I seem to have left the lid off the kibble-box and gone to bed.

Ahem.

I am fairly sure that Mac actually slept in it; he certainly didn't come up to sleep with us, which is most unusual. Barry was there and gone, and can hardly raise his belly off the ground this morning. Neither boy has finished his breakfast.

Hey-ho.

In other news, I went to two launches and an after-party last night, which is why Early Tea and Late Supper both occurred; and I still wrote two thousand words, more or less. And did some very nasty things to an inoffensive (if rather ambiguous) gentleman.

Still not sure I actually have time to finish this draft before I leave. I may be a day late and a dollar short, but probably no more than that unless I fold altogether over the weekend. And I do have plenty of airport/airplane time on Monday. (Notes to self: find a book! A fat one!!) But even so, I'd still rather have it finished before I go. Right now I am doing laundry, drinking coffee, putting out the compost and taking in the bins; but very soon I'm off to town again. Last opportunity for a full working day, as the Lit & Phil closes at one on Saturdays...

Metrics

Oh, I do love WP stats. There's always something. Today I have passed 345345 characters, and I'm coming up on 424424 keystrokes; in another three sentences I shall have 5000, and I'm only 66 words shy of 77,777.

On the other hand, I have to go home soonish. Cat/house sitters are coming round this evening, and they are boys; I need to supply food and alcohol, and make the place look more attractive (to boys) than their parents' homes. Also I should move on to Stage Two worrying about Monday. It is increasingly near, and there is so very much that could all go horribly wrong...

But! Not a word, not a worry until I pass 78K. That's my minimum, and I insist upon it. It's not actually enough, but hey. Make your goals achievable.

Tired now

I have written, um, 1600 words today, and I would dearly love to get that up to 2K tonight. But, oh lordy, I am weary. Physically weary, more than weary of words. I have shopped for all the things. All of them. And I have done all the laundries that there are, and now I have to go downstairs and boil all the riceys that exist, for boys eat rice in vasty quantities. And I don't even want to get out of my chair, but I need to do this. And sweep the stairs and the kitchen, against Evidence of Cats. And tidy the worst of things out of the way, for - though they are only boys, and hence not fussy - they are still guests in my house, and, y'know.

*drags weary self away to domestic duties*

PS

(Mac didn't even want to finish his tea. How ever much did that boy eat in the night...?)