I'm finding myself extremely torn between having new author shiny armor on, and being honest, which is really what i'm best at. I had five days off, and gosh darnit did i try really hard, but i didn't feel like i made that much progress overall. I spent so much time getting things right, and yeah, they're important, but...bah. And now i have to go back to work this weekend, annnnd, bah.
It will surprise no one who also knows my husband to know that he sings a song about me being a grump who lives in a stump, to the tune of living on a prayer. Today it feels true. Bah.
Friends want to do things in the morning this weekend. I can't go because of work. Bah.
It's raining outside. Bah.
On the plus side, we went and saw my baby niece today. So i'm an aunt, for the first time, which is exciting and fun. (I could have punched the doula lady who was also visiting for hogging baby holding time, though. Bah.) Downside, we drove about 200 miles around doing the Family Triangle in the rain, which is like the Bermuda Triangle, only slightly less treacherous to planes. I find myself, for nearly the first time in my life, wishing that a relative lived slightly closer, so it would be easier to drop in and see them. (My folks are 4 hrs away. That is perfect.) Then i remember that i will not feel like that when she's from ages 2-6, or maybe it's 8, i forget, heh. Then maybe i realize she might someday read this and realize her aunt is an uncharitable curmudgeon. Bah!
I kid. She won't be able to operate a mouse till she's like 5 or so, and we'll all be ascended into the singularity by then, or there'll be Aztec death in 2012 or something and there'll be a new media to replace the old media that i will be a part of and so no one will read my books and especially not this one fucking scene that i am so so so so so deeply tired of right now that is slightly closer to being, but not quite there yet, right.