Infirm of purpose
Nov. 29th, 2011 05:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceSo I had done this and that, and I thought I should do some of the other, in that workie-sense of things; so I thought I'd go into town, read through what I've done of Pandaemonium and be ready to start back on it tomorrow morning. And then I could go to the stationery store and shop for exciting stationeries (oh, c'mon: which of you doesn't still get excited by new pens and envelopes and such? ... Liar. Yes you do. Everybody does).
Only then I stepped out of my door, and found that the warm sunny day had turned suddenly grey and cold and rainy; and in my reluctance, I blessedly remembered that if I wanted to read through the MS of Pandaemonium, I would actually need a MS to read through. So I scuttled back indoors and printed it out, thinking that by the time it was done maybe the shower would be past and I'd head off again.
No such thing. By the time it was done (not actually very long at all: it's only thirty-odd pages, and that barely takes a minute these days), the rain was hurling against the windows and - well, no way. Thanks very much, but no.
So I may have murmured something about California, and then I remembered that I needed to make a Christmas pudding. So I did: and now I'm totally stuck in the house for the next eight hours while it simmers away in its basin.
I may possibly watch a movie (what does it say about me, I wonder, that Kill Bill is actually one of my comfort-movies?), but I may not. The other thing that happened was that I had a rare reminder, about an anthology I'd promised to submit to but entirely forgotten about. The concept sounds fun, and I found an opening line very quickly; so I thought I'd just write that down, and then I had an opening page, and... Well. Obviously I can't work on Pandaemonium until I've read it through, which will now be tomorrow; I might as well work on this. Tho' I have absolutely no idea where it's going, from this cute little opening line. Hell, it doesn't even have a title yet. I hate working without a title...
EtA: in other news, I grated my fumbnail. All the way frough to my fumb. There was blug and everyfing. *whimpers*
Only then I stepped out of my door, and found that the warm sunny day had turned suddenly grey and cold and rainy; and in my reluctance, I blessedly remembered that if I wanted to read through the MS of Pandaemonium, I would actually need a MS to read through. So I scuttled back indoors and printed it out, thinking that by the time it was done maybe the shower would be past and I'd head off again.
No such thing. By the time it was done (not actually very long at all: it's only thirty-odd pages, and that barely takes a minute these days), the rain was hurling against the windows and - well, no way. Thanks very much, but no.
So I may have murmured something about California, and then I remembered that I needed to make a Christmas pudding. So I did: and now I'm totally stuck in the house for the next eight hours while it simmers away in its basin.
I may possibly watch a movie (what does it say about me, I wonder, that Kill Bill is actually one of my comfort-movies?), but I may not. The other thing that happened was that I had a rare reminder, about an anthology I'd promised to submit to but entirely forgotten about. The concept sounds fun, and I found an opening line very quickly; so I thought I'd just write that down, and then I had an opening page, and... Well. Obviously I can't work on Pandaemonium until I've read it through, which will now be tomorrow; I might as well work on this. Tho' I have absolutely no idea where it's going, from this cute little opening line. Hell, it doesn't even have a title yet. I hate working without a title...
EtA: in other news, I grated my fumbnail. All the way frough to my fumb. There was blug and everyfing. *whimpers*