...that I hate Wednesdays? Not on general principle, but because it's the day my husband has to stay really late at school and I get really bored towards this time of late afternoon (4:30-ish). I miss him a great deal.
Plus, I just found an enormous pile of cat vomit in the bedroom. I knew there was a small pile there, which I was studiously avoiding all day, but I finally managed to move the laundry and remove the afghan and what did I find but another pile--or more of the same pile--which not only was gross and disgusting but it looks as if it's been there a long time and people have walked over it so it's kind of ground into the floor.
I don;t do cat vomit. If I try to clean it up, I start imagining how it got there and before long I'm having heaves of my own and sometimes have to make a quick dash to the bathroom. I suppose then it;s a good thing we never had children, with all the goo and mess involved; I;d never be able to look after one.
Children these days remind me of Alice in Wonderland, where she's inducted to nurse the Duchess's baby and ends up with a piglet. As she said, it made a very bad baby but a rather fine pig. And I think that about a lot of children. No offense to those who have them. I just know if I had to take care of a baby it would end up turning into a piglet. And then what would I do with it? I could never take it to show to my in-laws. I could never send proud pictures to my family. This is the piglet I raised....it seems fitting somehow.
The White Knight is sliding down the Poker. He balances very badly. The white King KNEW he hadn;t written those words, but he couldn;t say just who had. A lot of writing is like that. You know those words didn;t really come out of you but where they came from you just don't know. Then you have to do tiresome things like go back and edit.
I intend not to edit Locked at all.
The POD company I;m thinking of for Locked is having quite a good deal on a package I'm interested in--for the next 24 hours. I can buy the package now and use it when I'm ready, they assure me. I just don't know if I can afford that package now, especially with the money problems we're having. In fact, as I think about publishing it, the end of it gets farther and farther away until it recedes into some far distance where it becomes not merely insubstantial, but a vanishingly small probability. It is a story without a real ending. As this blog could conceivably go on and on until I run out of random thoughts that are linked by only the most tenuous of threads. So it will not so much end as stop, without coherence. Can that possibly be satisfying to a reader or even to me?" I don;t know.
I have not been drinking absinthe although I have always wanted to try it.