Now I know I'm broken

[desperance]

My agent phoned an hour ago, to say how much he liked the new book. This is a good thing, and ought to make me happy.

And yet, since then I have spilled cooked rice all over the kitchen floor, shouted at Barry, bitten my tongue (not a metaphor: metaphors don't bleed) and generally find myself absolutely at the ragged edge of functionality.

I am going to give up on the day altogether and retreat to the sofa with a bottle or two of wine, and no ambition beyond making a better fist of tomorrow.

Comments

[szandara.livejournal.com]

Sometimes a day just decides to go bad...you open the carton, take a whiff, and decide you just have to pour the entire thing down the sink. Nothing else to do.

*hugs*

[desperance.livejournal.com]

S'true. But the kitchen floor got swept, and while the second pan of rice was boiling, I hoovered the dining-room. Kinda casually, but. Hoovered. And there isn't even anybody coming round. My inner Domestic Goddess is flabbergasted. Fanning herself with her apron.

[szandara.livejournal.com]

My Inner Domestic Goddess salutes yours, for a job well done. I should do some of that...at least I ran some laundry through the washer and dryer today. Want to lay odds on how many days before it's all folded and put away?

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Hah! My wardrobe has given up hoping. The clean clothes accumulate, within its eyeline; and then just sit there in heaps, until they're taken away to be worn and made dirty again. Poor thing is very beautiful, but entirely redundant, except for holding those clothes that I have bought but am clearly never going actually to wear.

[szandara.livejournal.com]

My storage space is insufficient to the amount of clothing I own unless some significant portion of it is in the washer/dryer/laundry basket. If it's all clean and put away at once, something might burst.

That has, fortunately, never happened.