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desperanceAh, displacement...
Funny thing, it's usually - it used to be - work that needs displacement. Cat-waxing, washing up, all those little needful tasks that call like sirens when there's something else to do.
My work is done, is gone; I can at least have one day off.
I have to make one phone call, about a broken window.
Today I have cleaned and tidied, both literally and otherwise. I have done l*undry. I have played with the boys (ooh! evil red dot, slay it mightily!!). I have been to town and done bankstuff and bought coffee (from the nice coffeeperson who knows my order before I speak it, because I am sooo predictable) and noodles and beansprouts and garlic and coconut milk and not a book although I might have done. I have come home and finished reading The Drowning City by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stillsostrange, which is powerful and sad and wonderful and thoroughly deserves its place on my shelf of Very Wet Fantasies (alongside Living with Ghosts by la_marquise_de_ and my own Selling Water by the River). I have taken a phone call about an event that's happening in Newcastle tomorrow, which I have promised to plug at an event that I'm hosting at the Lit & Phil tonight. I have given some thought to three random writing projects, all at different stages of production.
What haven't I done?
Yup. I have not picked up the phone and made a call about a broken window.
And it's lunchtime now. Nobody wants to take a call at lunchtime, about a broken window...
Funny thing, it's usually - it used to be - work that needs displacement. Cat-waxing, washing up, all those little needful tasks that call like sirens when there's something else to do.
My work is done, is gone; I can at least have one day off.
I have to make one phone call, about a broken window.
Today I have cleaned and tidied, both literally and otherwise. I have done l*undry. I have played with the boys (ooh! evil red dot, slay it mightily!!). I have been to town and done bankstuff and bought coffee (from the nice coffeeperson who knows my order before I speak it, because I am sooo predictable) and noodles and beansprouts and garlic and coconut milk and not a book although I might have done. I have come home and finished reading The Drowning City by
stillsostrange, which is powerful and sad and wonderful and thoroughly deserves its place on my shelf of Very Wet Fantasies (alongside Living with Ghosts by la_marquise_de_ and my own Selling Water by the River). I have taken a phone call about an event that's happening in Newcastle tomorrow, which I have promised to plug at an event that I'm hosting at the Lit & Phil tonight. I have given some thought to three random writing projects, all at different stages of production.What haven't I done?
Yup. I have not picked up the phone and made a call about a broken window.
And it's lunchtime now. Nobody wants to take a call at lunchtime, about a broken window...