Thursday mornings make a post
May. 1st, 2008 10:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceOkay. It is, fairly obviously, Thursday morning. I have made the last little changes to the last of the subsidiary Dracula docs (I hope), and sent that off. I have first-drafted the book review. I have, basically, nothing left to do, that I'm obliged to; all my current commitments have been fulfilled. This is not, of course, to say that I have nothing to do. Work-wise, I still have the big SF novella to revise/rewrite/whatever; I have the Alexandria story to continue; I have numerous other stories I could start. But all of that is independent working, undriven by promises or deadlines or dosh. At the moment, I'm not so good at doing stuff for its own sake. I lack the whip of authority.
I could spend time on the house instead, or on the garden. There is much to do. If you could see this office, eg... (The path I tread between door and desk is, um, less than eight inches wide at its narrowest. Pretty much, the rest of the floor is cluttered with boxes & papers and furniture and so forth. It's not entirely my fault - quite a lot of that stuff was far more sensibly stacked on shelving, before the cats played there - but, well, nobody but me is going to pick it up. It just daunts me. I think probably a Total Rearrangement is the only long-term solution - like, the desk could go over there, and that sideboardy thing could go altogether, and... - but my back and I are no longer up to Totally Rearranging without help, and I'm not good at asking my friends for help. Odd as this may seem, given how very much I depend on them. But I'm whiffling...)
I could spend time on some necessary admin, the kind of stuff I still put off and off despite being all grown-up and mature now. There's a phone call I need to make, to chase some money that I need; but I'm dreading it (Chaz vs the Faceless Multinational: this is not my kind of battle) and I'd almost rather forgo the money. Almost. Certainly I can forgo it till tomorrow... Or there's some stick-books-in-envelopes admin I could do, with the added advantage that I would then have to go out to post them. Once out, of course, the world is my oyster and this house and all its contents is a clam, closed up, behind me...
Basically, what I'm saying here, today would be a very good day for my editor to get in touch about the novel. All my ends are loose, else, and I'll just flail around. I need some focus back.
I could spend time on the house instead, or on the garden. There is much to do. If you could see this office, eg... (The path I tread between door and desk is, um, less than eight inches wide at its narrowest. Pretty much, the rest of the floor is cluttered with boxes & papers and furniture and so forth. It's not entirely my fault - quite a lot of that stuff was far more sensibly stacked on shelving, before the cats played there - but, well, nobody but me is going to pick it up. It just daunts me. I think probably a Total Rearrangement is the only long-term solution - like, the desk could go over there, and that sideboardy thing could go altogether, and... - but my back and I are no longer up to Totally Rearranging without help, and I'm not good at asking my friends for help. Odd as this may seem, given how very much I depend on them. But I'm whiffling...)
I could spend time on some necessary admin, the kind of stuff I still put off and off despite being all grown-up and mature now. There's a phone call I need to make, to chase some money that I need; but I'm dreading it (Chaz vs the Faceless Multinational: this is not my kind of battle) and I'd almost rather forgo the money. Almost. Certainly I can forgo it till tomorrow... Or there's some stick-books-in-envelopes admin I could do, with the added advantage that I would then have to go out to post them. Once out, of course, the world is my oyster and this house and all its contents is a clam, closed up, behind me...
Basically, what I'm saying here, today would be a very good day for my editor to get in touch about the novel. All my ends are loose, else, and I'll just flail around. I need some focus back.