THE DAY
As I said yesterday, the day to day life of a writer can be downright boring. I mean, all we do is sit in a room and make stuff up. I felt under some pressure today because workmen were here to install a generator, and I kept expecting them to turn off the power. So I just kept plugging along, doggedly sticking to the work, thinking my days were numbered. As it happens, they decided not to cut the power today–a good thing–but will tomorrow.
I’ll just deal with tomorrow when it happens.
On another note, I’m also starting the mad cooking thing before Passover. The parents are coming this weekend for a LONG weekend, and I’m thinking that I really won’t be writing much, which just KILLS me (especially with a deadline looming). They’ve said multiple times over that they don’t mind just hanging out, and I might just take them up on that because I do have work that needs doing. In the interim, though, I’m trying a new recipe for Sephardic charoseth (mainly, it’s a fruit compote with chopped almonds, sherry, and a little orange blossom water). I was going to make thumbprint cookies but ran out of energy and time. Maybe tomorrow . . .oh, but wait, I won’t have power.
Something tells me I’ll be working as soon as I wake up.
WRITING OUT LOUD
SHORT STORY (UNTITLED)
Day 1: 1000
Day 2: 2200
Day 3: 2100
Day 4: 1200
Day 5: 3300
Blog Post: 330
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What I’m Watching:
An episode of Motive (first season) and then The Americans. No comparison, really. Gosh, I hate watching Philip self-destruct. You watch; they’re get to the point this season where they think of terminating him.
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What I’m Reading:
A Dream of Polar Fog. Still.
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What I’m Listening to:
Frank Sinatra. I wish I could say that I liked Prince’s music, but it never did anything for me. That doesn’t mean that it’s not sad that the guy died so young, though. He was younger than me.
