THE DAY
So how was the day?
Hmmm…okay? It began later than usual for me. Had a bad night sleeping; kept waking up every other hour or so, thinking about the book. Around about 2 a.m., I was tempted to just get up and try and work, but that’s not worked for me in years. (Actually, I remember that the last time I pulled that was way back in Wisconsin…round about 2005? 2006? One of the MechWarrior books: I remember that I was spell-checking the thing, and I figured, oh, just do it. So I stayed up all night doing the spell-check and grammar thing. Listened to the BBC–I think I’ve said that I NEVER listen to music when I’m working, but I did that time, mainly because the work was really done, and this was mindless stuff that still had to be tied up before I could send the manuscript–and I recall that they were doing something about Frank Sinatra. Now, I LOVE Sinatra, and so I thought, okay, this is a good omen–and yes, I’m big into superstitions and omens, too. Sort of. Well, okay, a lot more than I like to admit. Anyway, I remember that the husband came down around 2:30 and said something to the tune of you’re going to regret this. Well, I didn’t; I was really fine the next day, though I did crash early.)
So, anyway, I know better than to get out of bed and try to work because it doesn’t work, and all I end up with is garbage and a bad case of the grumps. But it was also pretty frustrating to lie awake for several hours, trying to work out the kinks in this story.
Meaning I got up late, at around 8, which is almost obscene for me. Made coffee and started to work, and then the husband wanders in and says that he’s going for a walk in the snow to the park. Didn’t ask if I wanted to come along, but I thought, you know, how often does it snow in bloody Alabama?
So I went along, too. I wasn’t trying to avoid work; I honestly wasn’t. The walk was actually quite nice. Didn’t last too long . . . an hour? So it was 10 or so when I started to work? Did about three hours’ worth. Not a spectacular day, and then it was a little frustrating because I could either go to the gym or stay at the house. (Couldn’t use the Prius on the ice; the thing here: they don’t clear the roads, or–when they do–very few. Just too expensive to maintain the equipment. So the roads were mainly ice on the mountain except for the main road. This means that if I wanted to gym before the evening dinner to which we’d been invited, I had to go with the husband when he wanted to go.)
I went to the gym, natch. Not the ideal timing; I was on a roll. Nothing to be done about it. Did two hours this time around and then it was a quick trip home, change, then out to this event. (Nice enough crowd of people; everyone was there for the husband and his crew, and that’s fine. Met a couple women who were hoots.)
And now I’m going to get ready for bed because tomorrow’s another day and I MUST get through this section tomorrow; I simply MUST. Where the story goes after that? Bless me, I don’t know.
WRITING OUT LOUD
Far Side of the Moon
Day 1: 4326 Day 11: 2500 Day 21: 1800 Day 31: 745
Day 2: 2085 Day 12: 500 Day 22: 0 Day 32: 0
Day 3: 3011 Day 13: 1000 Day 23: 2700 Day 33: 4000
Day 4: 2652. Day 14: 3700 Day 24: 3500 Day 34: 2800
Day 5: 3210 Day 15: 5630 Day 25: 1500 Day 35: 4500
Day 6: 3450 Day 16: 1060 Day 26: 0 Day 36: 4800
Day 7: 0 Day 17: 130 Day 27: 0 Day 37: 0
Day 8: 2756 Day 18: 0 Day 28: 380 Day 38: 450
Day 9: 4580 Day 19: 3000 Day 29: 390 Day 39: 1000
Day 10: 2670 Day 20: 2600 Day 30: 380 Day 40: 2500
Day 41: 2600 Day 51: 1000
*Day 42: 830 Day 52: 1600
Day 43: 3600
Day 44: 5000
Day 45: 2600
Day 46: 3000
Day 47: 2800
Day 48: 2500
Day 49: 1000
Day 50: 4600
Blog Post:850
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What I’m Watching:
Still sticking with Fortitude. I can see where it’s going, but that doesn’t diminish the fun. It’s really quite a good little series.
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What I’m Reading:
Slowly working through Pet Sematary.
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What I’m Listening to:
Dang, keep forgetting to download that book about Operation Paperclip. (You know, I met the grandson of a German rocket scientist tonight–very nice, very caring guy–but it strikes me that it’s like living on Oz and being the descendent of one of the original convicts. They used to be vilified; now they’re heroes. I don’t think any of the German scientists were necessarily vilified, though I need to read the book to find out–but I do find it fascinating that they’re always the “German” rocket scientists, not the “Nazi” rocket scientists. Yeah, it’s great what they did for the space and missile defense programs; I’ve already said that. But I’ll bet that people would be a lot less impressed–or inclined to mention this–if they were reminded of that inconvenient fact. I controlled myself. But you’re related to a Nazi rocket scientist who, oh and by the way, was part of an organization that was happy to gas all my relatives? That don’t impress me much. I wonder how much of that family history is talked about. My guess? Not often.)
