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desperanceI appear to be sick. I have Symptoms; I am Not Myself. That might explain yesterday (for the culmination of which, I forgot to go to the theatre. Patrick Stewart in The Tempest, and I forgot). Also today, wherein I have struggled to write one page (one! and that a short one) and to read forty pages of proofs.
I really can't afford this; I have three urgent things to do simultaneously (the proofs, the proposal for what in shoddy shorthand we will call the dragon books, and a swift rewrite of the new novel to make it all pretty for publishers to see), and a fourth pending (ghost story, for Phantoms - book now!).
However, it's not offering much of a choice. I am going to lie on the sofa and read about jade, which I can pretend is still work, of a sort; maybe I will be better later. Maybe Barry will come and lie on top of me, in a healing sort of way. If not, he is a very silly boy, but we know that already. We have seen him chase his tail in the bath. If I only had a vid-cam, you - and YouTube - would see it too.
I really can't afford this; I have three urgent things to do simultaneously (the proofs, the proposal for what in shoddy shorthand we will call the dragon books, and a swift rewrite of the new novel to make it all pretty for publishers to see), and a fourth pending (ghost story, for Phantoms - book now!).
However, it's not offering much of a choice. I am going to lie on the sofa and read about jade, which I can pretend is still work, of a sort; maybe I will be better later. Maybe Barry will come and lie on top of me, in a healing sort of way. If not, he is a very silly boy, but we know that already. We have seen him chase his tail in the bath. If I only had a vid-cam, you - and YouTube - would see it too.